It’s 4:00 AM; I can’t sleep. A strained shoulder and a pack of prednisone are to blame. I’ve started and finished a 350-page historical novel that’s been sitting bedside for weeks. I’ve read the book of James. I’ve prayed over my family. I’ve shed a few tears. And now, out of a restless need, I dare to open this blank page wanting to say something, but not completely sure I know what it is.
I’m on the edge of something.
There have been a lot of those edges lately, a lot of tossing and turning, reflecting and remembering, wondering and wishing my way through my nights.
I’m standing in between … teetering precariously on the edge of yesterday, just before the dawn breaks on today, and God pierces my edge with a truth I’m often prone to forget:
I still have a plan for your life, Elaine.
I am undone by the hushed voice that penetrates the darkness, so certain in my spirit that I have heard from his. This is the edge we share, God and me … a moment of teetering between things unseen and things perceived. And it is a very good place to stand, here in this hour …
On the edge of something, even if I cannot see it.
God and I have been on these edges before, all of my life in fact. He’s been with me from the beginning. And while I cannot remember a day when I was unaware of his presence, it wasn’t until I was in my mid-30s that I began to really open up my heart and my mind to understand the deeper things of God.
With two young toddlers in tow and a barely used high-school graduation Bible tucked under my arm, I dragged my soul to my first ever, in-depth Bible study in Little Washington, NC. It was Beth Moore’s To Live is Christ, a study on the witness and ministry of the Apostle Paul. Two weeks into the study, I remember lying on my bed in the parsonage on Respess St., Bible and study book wide-open, tears streaming down my face, with the most honest confession I could utter …
I am sorry, God. I have wasted so much time.
That was an edge for us, an exhilarating jump onto the next page of my life with Christ. Fifteen years later, I’ve yet to recover. I have loved standing next to Jesus on that edge of discovery. Every single minute we’ve shared on the pages of his Word has fed me, shaped me, and enlivened me for the road ahead.
Along the way I’ve been so privileged to share that road with countless others through my speaking, leading Bible studies and Sunday Schools, writing books, teaching Bible for four years in a 4th grade classroom, and shaping my own children with the truths I have learned.
It’s been my great joy, and it’s been for God’s good. I know that deep down. Truly.
But just now, right now, before the birds begin their morning chorus, I need to know that there is more. My body is weak and my mind is cluttered. I’m having trouble standing on this particular edge because I so long to see that which remains hidden. And that kind of blind faith sometimes feels just out of reach for me. The edge of something isn’t always as certain as I would like it to be.
How about you?
Where are you standing right now? What edge hosts your in-between? Has the new day brought with it a new hope, a fresh dispensation of daily grace and forward steps? Is your agenda filled with God’s? Has he made it clear to your heart what is dear to his? Is your edge a place of release or has it become, instead, a place of refuge? Is the uncertainty you have about tomorrow shattering your confidence therein?
If so, then might I lend you an old truth on a new day almost arrived?
God still has a plan for your life.
Despite the darkness. Despite what’s happened. Despite your flesh. God still thinks thoughts about you and would like nothing more than to stand on the edge with you as you prepare your heart for your next steps.
Fresh grace. Forward steps. The edge of something … more.
A very good place to stand here in this hour.
Welcome to today!
As always, I pray for you God’s companioning peace for the journey,
