Two days ago, I blogged about a book I just started reading. I was only a few pages in and already loved it enough to share. I’m on page 168 now and have marked up this book so much it’s nuts.
I have a notion to share every single thing that spoke, sang, screamed at me from the pages, but I’ll show some restraint (and you can buy the book yourself for the fabulous price of $5.20).
If you listened to my interview on Midday Connection two weeks ago, you heard me talk about us feeling a strong call to move to Cambodia, a clear vision about what we’d do there, a plan to pay off debt and sell our house and go. And then the ER visits that resulted in Gabe being diagnosed with anxiety. And the subsequent low, dark months of depression, debilitation, debt, and a lot of other D words (and some 4-letter ones that start with several different letters).
So, when I read these words on page 49 of A Certain Risk, I just substituted the author’s wife Cyndi’s name with Gabe’s, and holy cow.
“[Gabe] and I had no choice but to cry out to him for our physical, spiritual, mental, and emotional survival. Now we understand that God’s purpose was to show us how his mighty river of strength surges in the blessed void created by human frailty. In his perfect time, God would take our family by the hand, lift us up, and lovingly lead us through the darkness.”
And these: “Crises are the launching pad from which God blasts us into a journey of faith. When all appears to be lost, we are left with no choice but to fall to our knees and cry out to God. We then discover that moments of impossibility are precisely where God has always wanted us. In these moments our lives become the playground of his creativity. The ultimate honor and glory are always God’s.” (61)
“If you remember nothing else from this book, remember this: the agony of faith is wrenching ourselves free of prideful self reliance and crying out for the resurrected Christ to be our strength.” (113)
A-freaking-men, and thank you, Jesus.