Friday, July 22, 2011

Armfuls of Baskets

"I have a passion, but I'm caught in two worlds."

It was the subject of a conversation that had crept into the early hours of the morning, a scenario not uncommon where my friends and I are concerned. While usually light-hearted and littered with hysterical laughter from inside jokes, plans for the future, and happenings from the day, the tone had taken a more serious turn when we got onto the subject of struggles.

When you know enough about somebody, you tend to know what they're dealing with before they even elaborate. And in some cases, the very thing that brings you together is the fact that you're both fighting a battle at the same time. That empathy forges a bond stronger than double sided duct tape, a grand force to be reckoned with. You tend to get a feel for the emotions, the thought processes, and the background behind each of these individual fight. The subjects aren't brought up in a serious light on a regular basis, but are always there, fermenting to the point that when they are finally brought to the service, the intensity they bear bites with an unmatchable strength.

And such was the conversation in these late hours, until a lull in the conversation led to a heavy silence before the question was asked....

"You know this is all going on...and it's not going're my friend. Tell me. Do you think I've lost my anointing?"

Even in a place with lowered walls and distant do you answer a question like that? How do you gauge someone's anointing in the midst of a battle. For the love of almighty, you're not even sure of your own anointing at that place or time. What's there to say other than...

"Yeah....I think it's still there..."

Encouraging and smooth. That's your motto. That's what you're going for. Uplifting and informative counsel. Good job.

The silence continues. And sighs are exchanged on either end of the telephone.

And so you think of your own passion. The one that's been buried deep within you for as long as you can remember; since you were a six-year-old girl watching slides with pictures of Africa and Asia and South America from the visiting missionaries in the front of the church and that you simply cannot extinguish even if you try with all that is within you. In the middle of the confusion and uncertainty that seems to have become a permanent ornament in the life that you prefer to keep so structured and precisely planned, is the anointing still there? You're wrapped up in changes with your education, your living situation, with your's such a handful.

Handful seems so small. Belittling for what you have on your plate and, as you know all to well, what the party on the other end is bearing on their shoulders. Armfuls would be more accurate. In fact, heavy, full baskets weighing down on each arm could easily depict what it is that you have before you.

Baskets full of your stresses and your cares, as well as some things that you really don't mind carrying around; fixtures that you've grown attached to and crosses you've become accustomed to bearing. You've picked all of it up. Your friends, your family, your lifestyle. All in your arms.

And in the midst of carrying all of these things, you peer over your armfuls piled high and my anointing still there?

And you realize that....sure. It's still there. Sitting right where you left it. It's not like God was intending on taking it away from you. If that wasn't meant for you and only you, he wouldn't have let you survive the things you've been through. Only you can carry that anointing.

But you have your hands full. Your arms full.

There's. No. Room.

You sigh again at this realization, and frustration comes out along with the breath.

And then the solution comes.

That's your problem right there. Your anointing IS still right there. You've just been to busy juggling and carrying everything else that you were too busy to notice.

It's sitting there.

So why don't you pick it up?

Your arms are full. That's why.

No, stupid. I mean...what if you put the rest of that stuff down.

Well, no. That wouldn't work. These things need to be carried. Supported. They can't be dropped. Getting it out of your arms would require handing it over to someone else.

And go figure. The One you're walking with just so happens to be omnipotent and able to carry all things. Look right there. There's room for your baggage, too!

The voice on the other end speaks again, startling you out of your drifting thoughts.

"You think?"

"Mmm....yeah. It's there waiting for you. I think you just kinda have to hand everything else over and pick it back up again."

And in that're really not sure whose question  you were answering.

1 comment:

MotherT said...

Amazing the insights Jesus drops into your head in the middle of the night! ((HUGS))