Lent, Day 7
The Lord makes firm the steps
of the one who delights in him;
though he may stumble, he will not fall,
for the Lord upholds him with his hand. [Psalm 37:23-24]
Geisen, author of Brave Faith, the devotional I’m loosely following during Lent, references three scriptures for today’s reflections about moving toward God when we walk toward those brave moments, that choosing/doing moment something outside of our comfort zone.
Baby steps, I call them. Sometimes it’s as small as speaking to someone you would normally not speak to, for whatever reason. But on this day, you do. You make eye contact. You connect.
It takes a certain amount of awareness, first of our surroundings (with new eyes and ears) and then with a felt perception of God within. Present. This is the way, God whispers, look there. Listen. Go there.
In Zambia, I confess, it’s easier than at home. Everything is different, culturally. Everyone here at the village and at the School of Hope, they all say hello and how are you? In fact, it’s impolite to start any conversation without first asking about the other. But my first baby step here was learning this greeting in Nyanga, one of the primary languages spoken in Zambia (along with Bemba). People smile a little broader and I’m sure they’re giggling at my accent, but it’s OK. I don’t mind it at all.
But the most embarrassing for me is not understanding what people are saying to me. They are speaking in English, but it’s British English with a strong local accent on top. I have to keep asking for them to repeat what they have said 
or even spell it. One young girl said her name was “Gris.” I couldn’t imagine it. I tried it a few times and she looked at me all silly. Then I had her spell it: GRACE. Oh God! I thought, help me to hear.
Is this how I hear God? Some sort of mangled understanding? Am I interpreting? Or do I just hear what I want to hear? It may be one of the reasons why I can stay in my comfort zone so easily.
Oh God! Please repeat. I’ll get better at this. I will.
I shared this story along with one of my own. Back in the day, when I was in acting school, we had two semesters of Circus classes. These were some of my favorites. Among the skills we learned was juggling and unicycle and of course, tightrope walking, which I loved. This too requires focus–that is focus on the end point. All balance comes from this focus.
Becoming brave is becoming more of me. Becoming is an evolution, a journey into the wholeness God wants for all of us.
The author of Brave Faith speaks from a place of introvertedness and “showing up.” As an off -the-chart extrovert, I am taking a different tack. For me, this devotion speaks more to Presence. Being There.
I have always been tuned in to people’s feelings. Unfortunately, my response is usually to make them feel better, to make peace, to avoid conflict. I will be the chameleon. And although that can be a useful tactic, there are also times when I need to stand strong. Instead, I want to be liked, to be appreciated. I don’t want people to be angry with me and so I will adapt to the moment, edit my words, and so forth. It’s the way of the cowardly lion.
Day One of Brave Faith hits home right away, “As a middle-aged woman, my days of being daring seem to be slowly waning.” She’s got that right. What could be next? Retired from full time work, the last thing I expected six months ago, would be me sitting here in Zambia, Africa at the Villages of Hope. It doesn’t feel particularly brave or courageous to travel here and spend six weeks. Not now, but it did at first.
safe and familiar, though confining. Outside, anything could happen. Wild animals might eat you. The wind might blow and the storms could come. Lightning might strike. And yet, what was really there? A meadow, as far as the eye could see.
Meditations from Zion 