When Jesus say yes, nobody can say no My Jesus.

Send out Your light and Your truth, that they may lead me, and bring me to Your holy hill and to Your dwelling; That I may go to the altar of God, to the God of my joy and gladness. Psalm 43:3

Gordon Smith’s fifth question is: What is the cross you have been called to bear? Responding to our vocation inevitably requires exchanging other life-options in order to grow into the precious pearl of our “name in Christ.” What are you called to “leave” before you can “cleave” to your new creation? Perhaps it is letting go of your own cherished ideals or imagined futures that represent some of the crosses you must bear in becoming who you truly are in Christ.

And I am pretty sure that God is calling me to leave. To leave my cherished but quite wobbly position of trying to hold everything all together. Release. Lay it all down, to the God of my joy and gladness.

These days I have been trying to take care of my still quite tender ribs, and not the sort of grilled-in-the-backyard-ribs I am serving Sunday to the big ol’ extended family but my still-feeling-smooshed-on-the-pavement-ribs, by riding along the nice easy flat smooth path through the desert and around the park.

And the main thing besides the creosote and the swirling hawks and the damp golf course grass is all of the folks are riding walking striding dashing with me in joy and gladness. Because every single one of them knows that he or she is in the exact right moment for now, 5:15 in the morning. Ain’t nothing better to be doing right now. The sweet spot.

And each and every one of the folks from every possible walk of life, well, this one guy, the oldest man I have ever seen in my life had sort of a joghobble walk of life thing going with a hugest smile, greeted me with a “Good morning” with that same cheerful lilt of “Buen Camino” that greets each pilgrim on The Way.

The sweet spot. Laying it all on the altar of His light and His truth.

I was talking to Marco even earlier this morning as we sorted through the topic of bicycles, and he too is at a moment of decision. And he too has no clarity. Well, he said, “The only thing I know is that Jesus loves me.” And he told me to listen to his happy song.

I'm not worried 'bout a thing
'Cause I know You are guiding me
Where You lead me, Lord, I will go
I have no fear cause I know who's in control

And Marco is praying for a crash of clarity as he heads off to Assisi this weekend and then to Israel with the Franciscans.

The crash of clarity.

Me too.

And I am picturing that big last splashing spraying crash, the last breaking wave of the tossed by the wind waves, and then all is silent as it rolls into the long expanse of smooth sandy beach with a frost of foam and bubbles. Peace.

He is in control.

Where You lead me, Lord, I will go.

For there is no way in which a man can earn a star or deserve a sunset.

Send out Your light and Your truth, that they might guide me. Psalm 43:3

Be my God of joy and gladness. Be my God of righteousness and justice. Be my God of love and truth. 

I will walk in the presence of the LORD in the land of the living.

What I desire: The gift of courage, faith, and hope to fully choose the path God desires, to make the decision God wants and then to implement it with all my strength and constancy I can.

There is nothing freer than a heart that sees only the life of God in the most deadly perils and troubles. –de Caussade, The Joy of Full Surrender

So sometimes I wake up at night so full of dark thoughts that I can barely breathe. So I read. I have to say Wuthering Heights has not been a good choice; it is certainly not a lighthearted chunk of unread bucket list classic lit. I longed to throw it across the room, but me being me, I just set in neatly and firmly on the dresser. Nevermore.

And I turned to another classic: G. K. Chesterton’s St. Francis. And rather than reading about a morose young man tangled up and tied down in bitterness and accusations, I read of a man who even among the saints he has the air of a sort of eccentric, if one may use the word of one whose eccentricity consisted in always turning towards the centre.

It is commonly in a somewhat cynical sense that men have said, " Blessed is he that expecteth nothing, for he shall not be disappointed.” It was in a wholly happy and enthusiastic sense that St. Francis said, " Blessed is he who expecteth nothing, for he shall enjoy everything."

He was obedient but not dependent. And he was as free as the wind, he was almost wildly free, in his relation to that world around him. The world around him was, as has been noted, a network of feudal and family and other forms of dependence. The whole idea of St. Francis was that the Little Brothers should be like little fishes who could go freely in and out of that net. They could do so precisely because they were small fishes and in that sense even slippery fishes. There was nothing that the world could hold them by; for the world catches us mostly by the fringes of our garments, the futile externals of our lives.

A man had to be thin to pass always through the bars and out of the cage; he had to travel light in order to ride so fast and so far.

Yesterday I casually asked one of my students, a senior, what her plans were for college. One little gift she has is that her father is a professor at the university, so she can go to any school in the Western Consortium for basically free. And she answered that all she ever wanted to do with her life, since our Mexicali trip last spring, was to give God’s love to little street children. Did I think she needed to go to college to do that? And as we talked about gap years abroad, and professional skills to hone, and which country would she like me to hook her up with, all I could really think about is how she fairly trembled with joy. Her face glowed. Her voice shook. Her eyes sparkled.

Be my God of joy and gladness.

One never knows what is waiting outside that door

O send out Thy light and Thy truth, let them lead me. Psalm 43:3

His light shows me the very next step, the way wherein I should walk, and His truth is wrapped around my core, to gird my loins, that I may walk forth with constancy and firmness, without wavering or fear, because I am at rest in His strength and faithfulness.  

Let them lead me.    

So sometimes I get a little grumpy.  And tired. And a little bit discouraged. And I just want to sit there by the fire and stare.  And while that’s not so great, maybe there is nothing really wrong with that.  Unless.  Unless I am being prodded to step forward and into the fray, with a lamp unto my feet less I stumble and a sturdy confidence.  So maybe last night I didn’t exactly leap into obedience, but sort of grumbled.  But I did walk out the front door and He met me in His full glory.   That one step.  I have a pretty good understanding that keys were turned in rusty old locks and iron portals were kicked open into the joyous sunlight.  And it will make all the difference for now and rippling into eternity.

Maybe, just maybe next time I will hop right off the couch.  

What do you think? A man had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ The boy answered, ‘I will not.’ But later he had a change of heart and went. The father went to the other son and said the same thing. This boy answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but did not go. Which of the two did his father’s will?