A while back I was training in an evocative character development ministry.  Central to my struggle — in that training process and in life—was my reluctance to move, to leap into action, before I fully knew what to do.  And, more importantly, if it would turn out.  I’d trained myself to make plans, and back-up plans, and sometimes, plans to back-up the back-up plans.

The night of my conversion to Christian faith on the Baker Library lawn, I discovered that my penchant was borne of the unwillingness to trust God with my life and the most important parts of it.  At that moment, I knew it was really important to God.  The surrender that accompanied my conversion was deep and thorough and whole-hearted.

A bunch of it didn’t last.

Years later, in the midst of that deep character work, I was challenged to consider how much our culture loves to analyze, to assess, and to reflect.  We in the Church have just about perfected the art— reducing a vibrant, adventuresome life following Jesus to sitting, listening, learning, pondering, evaluating, judging, and isolating ourselves with those who most closely have reached the same conclusions.  Christianity isn’t so much a way of being in life as a series of ideas and ideals we agree with.  Sad.

Friends in that ministry who I respect and trust challenged me to throw my body into the middle of the room and see what God does with it.

To do whaaaat

The “middle of the room” is where the action is.  It’s where the messiness is.  It’s where God’s provision is needed most.  

When uncertainty invites me to stop and study and analyze and consider and hedge my bets – I stop moving.  Ceasing to move had become a way of life.  As I’ve aged, life’s become more intricate, interwoven.  As my career advanced, the challenges have become more pernicious.  As my children have grown, so has the complexity of their difficulties.   All this entices me to stop, to evaluate, to assess … to not take action.

What about you?

Life is meant to be lived in action.  When you’re in motion, learning accelerates.  Discoveries come quickly.  Feedback is instantaneous.  Mid-course corrections yield immediate results.  The provision of God that you are is added to the mix.  As you engage, trusting God, divine resources appear—sometimes through you, sometimes not.  Often, they surprise everyone.

When I don’t know what to do, the last place I wanted to be was the middle of the room.  Funny thing is, that’s exactly where God’s waiting to meet me.  My friend, Dan Tocchini told me: if I will give all that I am, God will make up whatever I lack.

I’ve found this true too many times to doubt it.

What about you?