Liminal Spaces

Father, forgive my hesitant heart. Although I speak of your faithfulness and remember your love, I still falter when casting my net into the water.  

Forgive this doubt that lives in the shadows of my disappointments and sorrows.  It doesn’t overtly speak but stirs up “rational” analysis and mitigation in the face of your call. Forward movement seems monumental now that this liminal space has become familiar and comfortable. 

I’m not where I was, 

               I’m not where I’m going. 

But, I’m dangerously close to making my bed and planting flowers in this place that’s both lifeless and full of numbing activity. 

Still, you’ve always been so near, Father.  Your presence has held me, assured me, sang over me. You didn’t chastise me when I was pushed out the back door of my life, kicking and screaming and into this atmosphere of gray. You sat with me and patiently fed me when I was able to take you in…when I was willing to let you in. And you quietly waited when I wouldn’t. When I pushed you away. When my heart secretly asked “why”. 

You placed me in the flow of your mighty river and washed over me when I was dry and needed a reminder of your beauty, your worship and your people. You gave me breath when I forgot to breath.  And you’ve consistently and quietly spoken words of hope into my heart. Hope that life is not over for this soul that feels incomplete and conspicuous with half of itself torn away. 

And yet you still ask me to cast my net into the water. 

Really?

The last time I did that I had big plans. Godly plans. Spirit-led plans. But the net came back to the boat as empty as I was. 

What am I even casting for? To be honest… I don’t even know where I put that net.  Maybe it’s what I’ve been resting my head on all these months. That thing that you and I wove together over past decades.  That thing that he helped weave.  Your servant who served you by loving me. That faith that grew stronger through years of failure, success, sorrow, joy, confidence, humility, miracles, questions, worship, prayer, deserts, mountaintops, anger, love, doubt, truth…life…

Oh God! The importance of seeking you continually has never been so clear to me as I look at this net of faith that’s held me so close to you. Held me tangled in the greatness of who you are despite the pain of this life. 

So, you say to cast it out. To take a chance. To see what you might provide. Oh, how I want to be the person that stands with a flourish and throws that net far and wide with certainty that it won’t come back empty.

I confess that I’m not. 

So, again I ask, Father, forgive my hesitant and doubtful heart. I stand at a threshold that leads to a new thing. Your new thing. If I refuse to move, it won’t bring back the life I’ve lost and if I step through, it won’t erase it from my heart and mind. Whatever you have planned beyond this gray and stagnant land will emerge from where we’ve been and what you’ve carried me through. Throwing my net of faith into an unknown future, with hope, is all I have to offer you. And it terrifies me.  But, into your hands I cast my net, trusting that your nearness is enough to take the step and face the unknown.