The Box

As I am writing this I have a 20-minute episode of Wanda Vision paused in the background. It’s taken me almost three days to finish this one episode because of reoccurring pauses. And why do I pause might you ask? Because in my personal opinion there are scary parts. They’re not even really scary parts. I just checked, and Wanda Vision is rated PG- so really, not scary parts. But they’re scary to me. Scary because something unexpected is about to happen. Something that I don’t see coming and can’t predict. And even though I’ve scrolled my cursor over the buffer bar and have watched the little image stills of the scenes, I’m still scared. Because I’m not sure what’s about to happen.

And that is my entire life summed up.

I do not take unexpected well. It’s hard for me to stomach. Hard for me to be open to. And hard for me to not tip toe my way in with my eyes covered and my lip cowering. I much rather prefer the things I can plan. Specifically-timed and scheduled activities. To do lists and recipes with each step by step. I like the order of it. The ability to know exactly what comes next. I do not, under any circumstance, like or enjoy not knowing.

But that’s the tension I’m sitting in right now. And maybe it’s the tension I’ve been in for some time now, which would definitely explain the uncontrollable, sporadic tears. Because knowing each step of the way is not how God works, and I have been fighting God because I’m not particularly liking the way He works. I want to know it all. I want to know why and how come and when. I want answers and I want to see each step of the way, and you know damn right I want to know how this is going to end. But none of that- none of what I’m demanding from God- is faith.

The bible puts it so clearly. Faith is “the confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see”. The Passion Translation puts it, “Now faith brings our hopes into reality and becomes the foundation needed to acquire the things we long for. It is all the evidence required to prove what is still unseen.” Faith is trusting that God knows our heart’s desires and though we can’t see what is going to happen- we can’t know what is the next step, we believe that God is still working. And I don’t have a lot of that right now.

In my wanting to know everything and in my wanting everything to occur to my timing, I have forgotten the meaning of faith. Instead I have settled on what I can see right now, what I can control right now, and what is available to me at the moment. And the problem with that is that I’m keeping myself cooped up in a box.

It is the Meg box. In the Meg box things are comfortable. Things are not the worst, they are not the best, I guess I would say they are ok- bearable at most. And in being too afraid of not knowing, I have let myself settle for bearable at most when God has absolutely incredible and mind blowing in store for me. But the problem is, instead of holding onto faith I have been death gripping my box- my comfort.

And now that I know this- now that I know what I have been doing, I am absolutely terrified.

Because I know now that the next step for me is to leave the box. And it scares me. Because once I leave this box, I am leaving what I have been comfortable with for the past few months. Once I leave this box, I don’t know who or what will be waiting for me on the other side- if there is anything at all waiting to catch me as I feel like I’m falling. Once I leave this box, I am leaving behind all of my understanding and planning in order to walk into not knowing any of God’s steps or plan.

And it already hurts. And I haven’t even left the box. I just know I need to. I just know that’s what God is telling me to do.

There is one thing I do know though. I know that anytime God has called me to do the unthinkable, the scary, the seemingly impossible, the uncomfortable, He has always walked beside me. He has always held my hand and brought me to greener pastures. He always has better in mind and greater in store.

He has been so patient with me. So forgiving as I mess up over and over again. He never once turned His back on me and said, “Fine Meg stay in that box of yours!” He’s always been waiting for me. Waiting with arms stretched wide. Waiting to hold my hand. Waiting to catch me. And now that I know this, it’s my turn to take the step. To start crawling my way out of this box and into His peace.