Waiting, Lungfish, and Dragons

Consciousness is not linguistic. At least that is what I firmly believe. A few people might disagree. It has taken me years of practice and failure to get to a place where I can sometimes communicate myself properly with words! And still, when I am confused, disturbed, or upset I find myself unable to communicate what is going on in my soul, and I just writhe around like a dying duck.

A wise friend once told me that I was a complicated person, but that I needed to be simple for others. I'm realizing that this is God's desire for me as well. When I jump off the deep end into the complex extremities of my mind, delving for understanding in the deepest ways, it seems that He is faithful to bring me back to the shallow. I find joy and peace in that simplicity. But I know God has plans and intentions for that deep, complex side of me. I've seen Him use it for His glory. We just have to work on it together. That is one thing that I am learning in this waiting season.

I don't like to wait. I used to think I was unable to wait in a righteous manner. Now I am more confident that He can empower me to do so. I recently remembered some prayers that I offered up at the end of the summer, before I came to Idaho. And I realized that God was working on answering those prayers. It looked like chaos to me, because there is still chaos inside of me, and He wants to get it out.

The strangest part is dreaming alone. Have you ever wondered if you were ever really meant to be an adult? I wonder that a lot. I think I make a better side-kick than the one in the spotlight. But then, I guess I am always in God's spotlight. I suppose He can do whatever He wants with me. It just makes me feel like a fish out of water, trying to breathe air through gills that are accustomed to water...and that makes me think of the lungfish. It's a small fish that was instrumental to the development of amphibians and, eventually, animals. (Yes, we are talking about evolution here. Bear with me ;) ) It could survive for long periods of time out of the water, and would often flop its way between puddles, thus traveling on land. (!)

I've decided I am a lungfish. I am used to water, that is my comfortable state. But God has asked me to cross the land. He is leading me to a land that I do not know. He has given me the tools to get there. So I take the first step of faith and leave the ocean. I flop my way across the land, breathing heavily through my partially air-adapted lungs, but soon I panic. I am tired, I am not getting sufficient oxygen, and I don't see a puddle ahead. But there is. And He leads me to it, and I plunge in. He leaves me there long enough to recover. Then, it's on to the next puddle. What a strange life to live. Thank goodness. :) I am not a fan of the ordinary or mundane.

And that's what this waiting season has been like. I think everytime I am on land, a new toxin leaves my body. Sometimes I feel like Eustace from the Chronicles of Narnia. I have this tough dragon skin surrounding me, and Aslan has to peel off the layers. It can be excruciatingly painful, but I am beginning to see all the 'weight' that I have lost, and that encourages me.