I keep thinking I'm gonna have it all together one of these days. You know, wake up and suddenly I am the amazingly wonderfully perfect person that I want everyone to think I am. Uh... don't they?
But it hasn't happened yet (sorry to disappoint you!)... and I'm beginning to think it never will. And I'm beginning to wonder if... maybe... just maybe... that isn't the point. Maybe, the point of life isn't to become perfect, or to get it all together. Maybe... just maybe... the point... is the struggle. Allow me to clarify.
Sometimes I look at the circumstances around me; the questions I'm wrestling with; the issues I'm dealing with, and I just have to say to God-- Couldn't You have made this easier? Couldn't You have made this clearer? More black-and-
white? More obvious? I can think of at least 1253 ways that You could have worked this out so that it was more clear, and less of a struggle!
Following the logic that I am not smarter than my Creator, I am sure that He could think of even more ways to make the answers more obvious. You know, a writing-on-the-wall kind of thing? And sometimes I just have to wonder... why didn't He?
And I wonder if maybe... just maybe... the point... is the struggle. Maybe... the point of life isn't to become perfect, but to become close to God. Maybe... maybe He chooses the less-than-obvious pathway to force us to come face-to-face with Him again? Force us to once more wrestle with Him as He shows us the seemingly hidden trail? Perhaps the point of this struggle is not the
answer to the question, but the close inspection of the Face of God. And perhaps... it's not wrong to wrestle with questions... maybe... just maybe... the point... is the struggle.
Big girl, don't cry; perfect princess, don't fall
Big boy, don't stumble; don't blink at all--
Fulfill perceptions; nine-tenths of the law
'Cuz God's in heaven-- on earth no flaw.
Denied confusion now fills my ears--
"I have no struggles; I shed no tears"
Can't allow these questions after all these years
'Cuz God's in heaven -- I'm perfect down here.
Now shed facades; break secret fears
In honest condition, He draws me near
This conflict is what makes me real
Though God's in heaven, He meets me here.
This desperately searching through pathways confused
Recurring undoing; this grasping for truth;
This molding, this breaking, this healing, this shaping,
This conflict, this question-- my child,
You're perfect.... in the struggle.
