are you sure its open?

If you were to join me at Starbucks this morning you would have found me something like this. I rarely carry a purse but still carry all the contents that would normally go in a purse, It's a talent really. I can fit my iPhone, chapstick, and keys into that tiny little brown clutch. The ikea magazine is for ideas. The banana is for when I'm at ikea and Mabel desperately wants a .50 hot dog. Coffee is my sanity. That's how I roll.

A dear friend of mine posted this Celtic prayer this morning and it was such a encouragement to my soul.

Lord help me now to unclutter my life,
To organize myself I'm the direction of simplicity.
Lord, teach me to listen to my heart;
Teach me to welcome change, instead of fearing it.
Lord, I give you my stirrings inside of me.
I give you my discontent.
I give you my restlessness.
I give you my doubt.
I give you my dispair.
I give you all the longing I hold inside.
Help me listen to the signs of change,
Of growth;
Help me to listen seriously
And follow where they lead
Through the breathtaking empty space
Of an open door.

Father, I can't put my words together as eloquently as this celtic poet. But I can pray his words as my own. Lord, you know the struggles of my heart you know the scuff marks on the doors of my life better then I do, you knew the longings of my heart before I could have imagined them. Lord, you've placed closed doors in my life for a season for me to grow. You've watched me learn to trust you, you've been sustaining my every step. But God, what do I do when you open a door? The discontent, the restlessness, the doubt, the despair, are still here. Instead of those things melting away by you faithfully answering my prayer. The flame of fear is fanned by discontent, restlessness, doubt, despair just as wickedly as the flame of discontent is. Things I've been impatient about, longing for. You open a door and say "Here. Go." what do I do? I freeze. My feet turn into cement bricks, my soul sinks and anchors in a ocean of fear. Suddenly the God that gave me the desires, the God that sustained me through waiting, the God that finally opened the door, that God suddenly isn't faithful and wise enough to walk me through the open door. I find myself praying, "Lord, are you sure it's open?"

Father, this is scary, it's overwhelming, I can't imagine the ending to this crazy plan, and I don't like that.

"Father help me to listen to the signs of change, of growth, help me to listen seriously and follow where they lead. Through the breathtaking empy space of a open door."