Watching episodes from season one of Desperate Housewives tonight I heard a piece of great wisdom. Funny how God uses everything in our lives to teach us Truth, if we’ll only just listen:
"Yes I remember the world I lived in. Every detail. And what I remember most is how afraid I was. What a waste! You see, to live in fear is not to live at all. "
I went to small group/home group "host" (read: leader) training this morning at my church, The People’s Church. My stomach has been tied in knots ever since.
The thought of stepping back into leadership, however "easy" and "short" it may be, scares me more than I thought it would. The commitment is different than it is at Mosaic. Life Group leaders back home are usually identified by other leaders and apprenticed for a while before the group multiplies and the new leaders take the second group. Its a process you go through and prepare months for. And it’s a commitment of usually at least a year — if not longer.
At TPC, hosts can sign up without having been a part of a group. They just feel led to open their homes to people. And the commitment starts as a 7 week trial deal. Try it, see how the group fits, how you fit. Then go from there. If the group fizzles, no pressure, no worries. It just wasn’t meant to be a long one. You can try again. Or join another group already established.
The training was much simpler and more direct as well. Of course, anyone who’s had any contact with Mosaic knows that anything is more direct and simple than Mosaic. Not that things are difficult at Mosaic. Its just that the leadership is so very esoteric; they’re deep thinkers. Even years ago, when Bro. Tom and Carol were casting the vision. So the training is much more about the concepts and philosophies, not the practical how-tos of creating a basic, doable life group meeting.
So why does this all scare me? I think its because I’ve been thrown off this horse twice, no, three, times now and the idea of getting back on brings back unpleasant memories.
Leading is hard. No matter how short it is. No matter how "easy" those above you make it. It takes work. It takes sacrifice. It takes a piece of me. It always takes a piece of me. And that leaves me raw.
So why am I doing this? I don’t know. I just have felt since I moved into my new place that I needed to do this. And maybe even wanted to do it. I don’t know why I want to… I just do… Is that weird? Then last Sunday the announcement was made that they were looking for leaders for this particular series, lasting 7 weeks. And before I could really think about what I was doing, how I was committing myself once again, I’d filled out the information card and put it in the collection bag.
I could give you some of the reasons swimming in my head. I want to meet new people. I want to make some friends. Small group is the best way to do that. I have a nice little place where people can meet, so why not open it to a group? And its not so much "leading" as it is "facilitating". Or so they said this morning.
Honestly, all those reasons are good. And true. But this afternoon as I drove home from the training I finally discovered the true reason I’m taking this baby step out of my nicely padded comfort zone I’ve been making for myself since I left Mosaic Nashville’s "team": I’m doing it for God. But not in that holy, spiritual way. It’s like a little kid that pulls the paints out and makes a mess on the living room floor. I just want to make a pretty picture for my Dad. If He hangs it on the frig, all the better. But ultimately, it’s for Him.
When did I move from doing things because I was supposed to or expected to, or because I wanted others to know the love and intimacy I have with Jesus, to just wanting to paint a pretty picture for my Dad, just dance a crazy dance for my Beloved?
I am. I’m serious. Follow the link. I don’t deserve even a quarter of the praise and love given me, but…. dang, I ain’t gonna give it back either!! š
Conna, bless you!
Why such amazing, gracious, beautiful women choose to be my friend, even after all these years and all the crap I’ve given them, I doubt I’ll ever understand. But, man! Am I glad they’re my friends!!
Jesus Rocks!
I only worked about 25 payable hours this week, but I put in a whole lot more work time than that.
Two different freelance gigs have come my way — writing gigs. Can you believe it?? People actually want me to collaborate with them on some writing projects! Will wonders never cease. — These gigs, however, have propelled me into a world with a HUGE learning curve needed. I’ve spent probably another 20 hours or so just researching, reading and brainstorming for these.
A third freelance gig is in the off-ing as well. A job working the board for a weekly radio show here in town. I wouldn’t work every week, probably. It’ll be more a rotation thing. But still. A chance to learn a new board, to learn Pro-Tools (an invaluable skill for an engineer), and the experience (and resume credit) I gain… cool!
Over three years ago I felt convicted that I wasn’t using all the talents God’s given me. Nor was I really tapping into the passions I have. Two of those areas I felt strongest about were writing and sound.
A little over a year ago, when I resigned from the IMB, I felt God releasing me to follow the dreams and passions I have in these two areas.
Eight months ago, when I made the decision to move to Nashville, it was with the intention of pursing these two passions. I had no idea how to go about it, I just knew I needed to pursue them. It was long since time. I’d hidden away out of fear of failure for too long.
So here I am, three freelance gig-possibilities in the two areas of my passions I’d moved here to pursue, "dropped" in my lap by people I met at my current part-time temp job — the one I thought would probably get me nothing more than a paycheck.
I am overwhelmed. I’m in awe. I’m excited. I am scared spitless! What if I can’t cut it? What if they don’t like my style? What if all three of these fall through? What if even after working my butt off at all three, I still don’t have enough money to pay the bills? What if…?
One "what if" I’d carried with me since I got here became a real-life situation yesterday. My car needed $1,600 worth of work — and that doesn’t include the transmission, which occasionally acts funny. I came face-to-face with my deep-seated unbelief of God’s reliability and trustworthy provision. My wrestling with Him left me with a new-found deeper trust than I’ve ever known before. Now that trust is being tested.
It’s a struggle. Part of me wants to run screaming into the street as I watch my savings — mom and dad’s inheritance gift to me — dwindle into near-nothingness. Or take the first job offered to me that’s solid, decent paying and permanent, so I can have the security that comes with it.
Another part of me is comforted with the knowledge that this is what dad and mom would have wanted me to do, that they would be proud of me for pursuing these passions, living my life the way I am and would have gladly given me everything they had to help me now. They were both very encouraging of my talents and passions in both writing and sound.
Another part of me — and this part grows bigger every hour — wants to trust God, to believe Him — believe He will provide, even when that savings runs completely dry.
This is a new place in my journey with Him. I’ve never been this "both-and" before. Both scared and in awe of the whole situation. Both untrusting and desiring to believe. Both nervous and at peace. Not the all-well, life-is-a-serene-lake type peace. But a the-storm-is-raging we’re-in-the-rapids but-I-think-we’ll-make-it kind of peace. Have you ever felt that kind? You can’t really describe it, ’cause it makes no sense. It’s not the kind that makes light of the situation, or counts it as "no problem" for God. It’s the kind that understands the gravity of it yet is convinced there’s a Greater Source in charge. Not just watching over, but in charge.
Lest you think this is just all about money — I have also been overwhelmed with the knowledge that all three of these tasks are far beyond my skill level. Should they all come about I will be stretched far beyond what I can do in my own natural self.
Speaking of far beyond what I can do — Mosaic Nashville is another stretching exercise. The "core group" of us finished "Life In Christ" Thursday — we are fast becoming the "lead team", at least for now. Until new leaders rise up. We spent many hours this week brainstorming, struggling, debating, discussing and ultimately come to some decisions about our direction and action to take in the immediate future.
I’m doing this. I’m really doing this. I’m helping begin a new community. Do you fully comprehend the sheer scope, the bigness, of this endeavour? It’s enough to leave you breathless.
And I am. I’m breathless. Breathless with wonder, and awe. With fear, and peace. With excitement, and apprehension. With clarity, and fogginess. With God, and me.
But God faced him directly: "Go in this strength that is yours. Save Israel from Midian. Haven’t I just sent you?"
Gideon said to him, "Me, my master? How and with what could I ever save Israel? Look at me. My clan’s the weakest in Manasseh and I’m the runt of the litter."
God said to him, "I’ll be with you. Believe me,, you’ll defeat Midian as one man." — Judges 6:14-16
"You are my witnesses," declares the Lord, "and my servant whom I have chosen, so that you may know and believe me and understand that I am he. Before me no god was formed, nor will there be one after me. I, even I, am the Lord, and apart from me there is no savior." — Isaiah 43:10-11
I’m a Barbarian Christian. There’s no other way to put it. I gave up on civilized religion many years ago. It didn’t satisfy me. It left me feeling frustrated, unfulfilled, empty. The life I now live is uncivilized, uncultured and raw. I follow Jesus where ever He goes. Not because He tells me to, not because I’ll be "blessed" if I do, not because I must. But only because I want to.
I followed when He parked me in Hollywood. I followed Him to India. I followed Him to the Mediterranean. And I followed Him to Nashville. Yeah, God loves even Nashville. Kid Rock and all.
I don’t run around saying "Praise Jesus!" or "Glory!" But that’s just me. I’m more the "cool!" "Awesome!" "Jesus, You Rock!" kind of freak.
I’m not into Christian-eese. I hate it when people use those big churchy words, like propitiation. I mean, really. Who talks like that? My dad used to. But he was 80 when he died nearly two years ago. You expect 80 year-olds to talk like that. But not someone half his age. And certain not someone a quarter his age!
In a nutshell, I don’t fit in in a "regular" church. Singing songs, listening to a sermon and going home to Sunday dinner just isn’t me. I need to get my hands dirty, be down in the mud and muck with the rest of the world. That’s where real life happens. In the trenches, with people. And dang, people are just messy.
Life got really messy for me. It’s been ugly and painful for about three years now. And I’ve spent some pretty hefty time in deep contemplation of whether this whole Barbarian thing is worth it. It’s a rough, rugged, bare-fisted kinda life. And I ain’t no camper-girl. I’m more you standard hotel/urban-lovin’ city-girl.
I came to Nashville to plant a church like the one I have in Los Angeles. But now I’m struggling with whether to commit fully to this venture. Barbarian or not, there’s only so much pain I can endure. Planting a church is about as easy and painless as birthing a baby. Yeah.
Did I mention I hate pain?
Yes, I am a Barbarian — an urban-lover-pain-hater Barbarian. It’s not about the warrior part — Don’t think Conan. Yikes, I’ll never be that! Think — Amelia Earhart. Or Katharine Hepburn. Or Mary Tyler Moore. The ground-breaker. The Pioneer. Fierce, and unwilling to yield to her own fears or the nay-sayers around her. Its not about slashing and dashing, it’s about… the courage to give your life to something bigger than anything you ever imagined. Its about the humility to be transparent, to be real and authentic, even at the cost of your own heart. Its about caring so much about the people in your life that you give your life’s blood for their well-being. Its about living out the Bible, not just memorizing it or talking about it. And most of all, its about having a deep, intimate, passionate, crazy-making, relationship — with the Creator of the Universe.
My teammates saw in me something I couldn’t see myself. Last night they reminded me that I AM a Barbarian. They celebrated my un-civilzation and in doing so, they momentarily cleared the fog of confusion brought by my pain and brokenness. It takes time to heal. The deeper the wounds, the more time it takes. My wounds are pretty deep. But I’m still here. Someday I will be better. Last night, for a brief moment I saw myself clearly in the reflection of my teammates’ hearts — and I remembered Who I Am.
My name is Lu, and I am a Barbarian.
Forgive me if this rambles or has lots of errors. I took some allergy medication shortly before I began writing and now I’m quite loopy….
Been a rather quiet weekend. Except for the fact that my phone nearly rang off the hook for a while. I am truly blessed with friends who love me and get concerned when I start talking about yelling at God and all. I’m so grateful for them!
I’ve been exhausted much of the time. Perhaps from wrestling with God. Perhaps just from depression. But I’m tired of whining to God. That’s part of what prompted my need to wrestle with Him. I’m tired of whining. Tired of crying out to HIm. I hurt, I want answers, I want Him to keep His promises — and yes, I want Him to keep His promises in MY time, not His. Well, while I know my passion moves God, I also know it won’t move Him to live by my timeline.
My relationship with Him is stronger, though, for the wrestling. He met me there, He fought with me there, and I now know beyond doubt He won’t leave me, He hasn’t forgotten me, and He will take care of me.
I still walk on a fragile ledge, though. The stresses of daily life can overwhelm me at a moment’s notice. Tonight I nearly crumbled under the weight of them, as I thought of all the things I don’t have settled, and how much I long for them to be so.
Wendy wrote about Purpose the other day, talking about how single women sometimes get rather hung up on the issue, and wondering if David, Peter, Paul and others ever stewed over this issue or struggled with knowing what their purpose was. It prompted me to think of writing a children’s story about a pot wondering what it’s purpose was, since it seemed to rarely get used. Yet in the end it is the most special of pots, because it’s used only for special occasions, like making candy or perhaps to cook a turkey. My mom used to use the same huge pot to mix up and heat homemade ice cream as she used for baking a turkey. But she never used that pot for anything else.
What if we are like that pot? What if I am like that pot? And God only pulls me out for use once in a great while, but that use is incredibly important and special….
I realize we aren’t pots. Most people don’t have relationship with their pots the way God has relationships with us (unless you’re like my roommate, Adria, who’s nearly obsessed with cooking). I don’t believe we are just vessels for God to use for His purpose. If we were, then free will and all that is in vane.
No, we’re here for more than just to be used by God. I think we Christians try way too hard to simplify life down to its bare-bones. It’s either this, or its this. But life is much more complicated than that. It’s usually in the both/and that we live and find the truth of life. It’s both hard and rewarding. Its both pleasure and pain. And it’s both purpose and just ’cause God wanted to have a relationship with us.
I love the show Joan of Arcadia. It portrays God the way I always experience Him. Not that God talks to me by taking control of other people, but the way He talks to me, what He says, and the way He acts, is so much like the way He talks to Joan — even down to the little wave as He walks away. š
Friday night’s episode was on love. And romance. At the end, God sums up the lesson for Joan by saying that Romance is an illusion, given to us because we wouldn’t risk otherwise. Then he concludes by saying:
"Illusion dies so something bigger can take its place. Love is hard work. You have to decide if you want it in your story, or if you want to stay in the dream."
More than six years ago I decided I no longer wanted to stay in the dream. I wanted to experience real life the way God intended for me to live it. I had spent years insulating myself and isolating my heart. But in one moment, I threw open the doors and let God in to every part, even the parts that were tender and raw from previous hurts and deep wounds. I look at where I am now, everything I have experienced, and I know it is because of that one moment back in October 1998 when I told God, "I want to LIVE."
Had I known then what I know now… I still would have embarked on this journey. I would have paused for a long moment, but I still would have opened my heart up to God and allowed Him to breathe fresh life into me. It has all been worth it to travel this road with God. For what has been birthed in my heart and lived out in this life I now have is NOT adventure, as I thought it would be six years ago. What has been planted deep in my heart and continues to grow even today is Love. A deep and abiding love — from Christ, for Christ and by extension for all those around me.
Love IS hard. Its hard work and full of pain. Those we love hurt us, disappoint us, and eventually leave us, their bodies decaying in the ground as their spirits live on in eternity. There is no way around this pain. No way. We must either endure it, or not love.
I want love in my story. Even with all the pain I have experienced, and the losses I endure, I would not give back a second of my time loving my parents, loving those who have rejected me and loving those whom I no longer see with my eyes.
There are just times when I get sick of trying to live "right", when life’s crap has just piled up a bit too high and that little "ping" goes off somewhere in my soul and my rebellious nature kicks into overdrive.
I’m feeling it big-time today . Oh, yes. The rebel has come out, and she’s ready to fight anyone who dares get in her face. The rejection of my abilities from a professional — and, in essence, the failure/death of a large dream of mine — pieces from a long discussion I was involved in last night, and a dream I had early this morning that reflected my sad, frustrated, rejected feelings from yesterday. Add all that to the complete frustration of daily life and you get one over-cooked Lu.
Stick a fork in me. I’m done.
I feel like an American Idol reject.
You know, those people who can’t sing a note in tune to save their lives, and you wonder why in the world they subjected themselves to such humiliation — and others to such auditory agony.
Then, after Simon’s ripped them apart — and even sweet Paula’s shaking her head in utter disbelief that anyone could sound so wretched — they come out of the audition room in complete disbelief and devastation, all the while saying, "but everyone has told me all my life I’m so good at it!"
All my life people have told me I’m so good at a particular thing. Tonight a professional told me I’m not good at it "at all". I came away feeling just as devastated as an those Idol rejects. And it’s not like its something you can "get better" at. You either have the talent to do it, or you don’t. And, apparently, I don’t.
I’m getting really tired of my dreams being squashed like bugs under God’s unyielding feet. Why won’t He just tell me what I’m made for, instead of letting me go through these painful exercises in futile vulnerability?
I’ve been working on a post most of the day. It started as a short one, grew longer and then became mammoth. I don’t know how much will eventually be published here, but it keeps coming like a flood and I want to follow it to its end before I edit for posting.
I’m taking a break from it right now, though. Sitting in bed, candles lit everywhere, incense burning (sandalwood — reminds me of India). Actually the whole affair right now reminds me of India, the smell, the low lights, writing in the cot that served as my bed (because I didn’t have any other furniture in my room), a cup of green tea cooling on the bedside table, headphones on, everyone else in bed, and me, sitting with the laptop or my journal capturing the events of the day, sights, smells, experiences, defeats, victories… Yeah, everything right now is like India. Except the softness of my bed… (that cot was dang hard)
Today was a good day. I wrote. Until it got too dark to see anything but the screen. And I realized the sun had come and gone and I still had yet to get out of my pjs or take a shower.
I hardly accomplished a thing on my "to-do list"; didn’t make any of the calls I’d planned, didn’t clean, didn’t do laundry…. That’s what happens when writing consumes me. I forget about the rest of the world, lose all track of time and everything I’d planned to do goes out the window. I can’t stop it once it starts. I finally took a shower and even then I was talking out loud to myself to help remember what it is I wanted to write next, where I was going with the ideas.
Sitting here tonight, knowing that I’ve accomplished so little, I feel the pressure of the ticking clock. I need a permanent, full-time job, I need to clean my apartment, and all those other I-need-to-get-myself-together-and-get-out-there thoughts pound on my mind’s door, insisting on being given an audience.
Yet at the same time, I feel extremely liberated and alive. In a way I never feel at the end of a day at work. The three days I work I leave feeling drained and depressed, exhausted and spiritually dry. That’s just not right. Something is wrong here, and I’m finally willing to look at it and ask myself some hard whys. You may say it’s obvious: this isn’t the job for me. Yeah, I agree. I knew that quite some time ago, I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. Desperation for financial security will cause you to delude yourself about a great many things.
But at the same time, I see God’s fingerprints all my current work situation. And I have a strong desire to stay till they hire on the permanent person — which will probably be sometime in May. I so badly want to get things in order, get it all organized and ready so the new person just needs to show up. If I can do that it should make her transition into this crazy job a lot easier. I can’t explain why, but I really want to do that for her (whoever she is). In fact, it’s what’s made me finally want to go to work lately.
I feel caught in this weird dilemma of closed doors, current-part time work, feeling exhausted and sucked dry, internal pressure to look for more work but strongly desiring to keep the schedule and life I’ve got right now.
Barney, my counselor, told me one day about his loathing of stop lights, how he used to get so impatient, and drive his wife mad with his incessant toe and finger tapping and, "come ON!" comments at every stop light. Finally, she said something that shifted his whole paradigm on them. She asked if he really believed that there are no accidents in a Christian’s life, if God really does know everything that will happen to us and has the final say in whether it will or won’t come to pass in our lives. Barney agreed, yes, he believes that. Well, she continued, do you think that maybe God knew you were going to catch this red light? Silence…. You think maybe it would be beneficial to find out why God wanted to slow you down at just this point? Maybe look around you, really see everything at that particular intersection?
I have often wondered, and asked God, in the weeks since I heard that story, if this is a stop light time in my life. Despite my best and ongoing efforts, I still don’t have a permanent job. I work only part-time as it is. I have a lot of time on my hands. Much of that is spent in resting. I’m so exhausted these days. I feel so beat up still.
A few days ago, as I talked with God, He answered my barrage of why questions with a gentle whisper. "This is a time for healing. You wouldn’t have asked your dad to get up and mow the lawn right after his heart attack, or asked Helen to slam back into her full-on crazy fun-loving life after the years of chemo she’s endured, would you? Then why are you demanding yourself to get out there and live the super-sized people-ministry life you’re used to when you’ve had years of heart-soul-spirit trauma? This is your time for healing. Rest. Heal. Let Me take care of you."
Wow.
….Is that just wishful thinking, or was that really God I heard? I think it was Him. He’s said it several times since then. But it just seems too good — and yet scary — to be true. I’m eating away at the inheritance I got from mom and dad. Once its gone, that’s it. I’ll be broke. Oh, but I want to just live this part-time life! Live off that money. Write. Rest. Heal.
How blessed I am that I live in a country, and a time in life, where I can ask those questions and make those choices! There are others who are not as fortunate as me. They cannot even afford the time to think of such things, nonetheless live them.
Stop light or stop sign, I’m grateful for it whatever it is. Days like today refresh my soul and renew what little strength I have.
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.ā Matt 11:28-30
I applied at PF Chang’s Thursday. For any job they have. That’s when I knew I’m getting desperate for another job. I’m now applying for work I said I never wanted to do. And I’m more than willing to do it. Well, okay, not more than willing, but willing.
It occurred to me that morning morning, on my way to work, that I had underestimated the cost of my newly acquired health insurance. A mild panic began stirring in the pit of my stomach, and I ran through every scripture about God’s faithful provision of needs I could think of on my way to work.
See, my insurance from the IMB finally ran out, so now I have insurance through my temp agency. It’s the most expensive insurance I’ve ever seen. The company "contributes" a set amount (about $2) toward the insurance per hour I work, which doesn’t eliminate the cost, but does help some. I had calculated my payment based on working 30 hours a week. Now that I’m down to 20, the amount I pay goes up. Significantly.
I’ve been listening to a cd of a talk Erwin gave at Christmas (thanks Ron and Lynn for the gift!!) and it in he points out that God is at work not only in the small things in our lives, but cosmically as well. God uses the Herods and — might I even say the Bin Ladens, Bushes and Kerrys — and the other "historic", epic-size things in our lives to advance His purpose for our lives. That’s why Luke begins the story of Jesus by talking about Herod, because He was part of the story. God used the real-time politics and leaders to advance His purposes…"God works in real time. There is nothing that happens in history that God doesn’t use in some way to accomplish His purpose."
He went on to talk about how we often segment our lives, our God-life over here and our everyday-life over there…. and the two never really come together….
"…What we haven’t yet learned to do is see life in a more organic fashion. When you begin to live in intimate relationship with God you start to see the fingerprints of God in everything that’s happening around you… You’re unable to divide between God stuff and non-God stuff…. because you understand that everything connected to your life is connected in some way to God. Even the Herods. Even the Roman Empires, who would not even acknowledge God… He has an amazing way to use [them] as material to advance your life in His purpose. God acts in real time.
It was so encouraging to hear that! Not just for the obvious reason that God is working in real time in and through all the events of my life right now. But also because for quite a long time I’ve been convinced I see God’s fingerprints all over events, both international and in my own sphere of life. People have often looked at me like I was mad — or headed that direction — when I would voice how I could see God’s fingerprints on things. As if by seeing God’s fingerprints I was "blaming" God for the event, or "praising" Him for it. It was neither. It was just that I saw Him in the midst of it. I could see HIm working and moving and acting…
Like with the deaths of my parents. So many things went wrong all at once. Yet every time I look at that time, even as I was going through it in real time, I could see God’s fingerprints all over it. I don’t always see why or how or what He was working toward… I don’t know if I ever will. Even when I get to heaven the answer may still be beyond my capacity to comprehend. But I know He was all over that time. I can see His fingerprints, His imprint, all over it.
So many times in my life this has been the case. It was so wonderful to hear a leader, my pastor no less (and yes, I still consider Erwin my pastor, even though I’m in Nashville…), state that I’m not crazy for what I’ve been seeing.
Back to the cd for a moment… Erwin goes on to say, "there’s nothing random or arbitrary with God." He points out that Zechariah was in the temple that day by what most would call accident. The priests drew lots and Zechariah got the "short end", so to speak. He went about his routine. There was nothing extraordinary or unique about what he was doing. And that’s when he meets God. God acted,
"because God loves to act in the unexpected."
As I listened to this for the first time last Wednesday, I heard God whisper that He is working in this crazy financial/job thing currently going on in my life. I felt a peace come over me, a sense that God’s Spirit was pressing in on me more intensely at that moment. As if He wanted me to really pay attention and get it this time….
There is nothing random or arbitrary in the life of a follower of Christ. There are no accidents, even though it seems we got something by the "luck of the draw." It just ain’t so. God is working. God is acting. Cosmically. In Real Time. And in the Unexpected.
Do you realize how amazingly favored we are? The God of all creation steps into our lives on a daily basis, He longs to do unique, wild things in our lives. He longs to fill us with a deep, abiding joy — not the loud, excited kind but the quiet, profound kind that roots itself deep in your soul. He acts in real time, in the ordinary, routine events of our lives — like finances and jobs. He steps in and does something wild.
And we, in our deep cynicism, don’t believe. We find ourselves silent, like Zechariah.