He has removed all my distractions. The fig trees are not of any use to me except to eat. How dare he bring me into this broad place? Is mystery now my home? Are hopes and dreams supposed to fill my time? Are passions and desires supposed to guide my spirit? Is joy supposed to keep me warm? Am I expected to learn how to dance in love and trust in truth? Does he really expect me to rest in his delight and expect his kindness without any effort? Am I supposed to forget the familiarity of hopelessness? Is rejection not at my right hand and loneliness at my left? Does fear now become the best place of worship? Am I supposed to get used to being filled up and emptied out? Will rhythm and routine replace chaos and anxiety? Should I get used to waking up to my dreams and lying down in green pastures? Will this life now be a gift instead of a heavy load? Should I get used to running free instead of bowing down? Will I hear the wind speak, the birds sing, the sun smile, the flowers twirl, the trees sway and the rain dance? Will I get used to all my new brothers and sisters; and will we feast and celebrate together?
Will I ever get used to my new name or my dad’s face? Will my brother’s voice bring me peace and goodness, instead of doubt and fear? Perhaps mercy won’t taste as sweet or rest not fill my lungs forever. Will I finally hear him singing over me? Surely this is but a dream that comes crashing down when he finds out who I am and what I did. Perhaps, this a delusional fantasy that I have conjured up to deal with my shame, fear and guilt. But what if it isn’t and what if it is.
I don’t know.
But…Here I am, I can do no other. The distractions have all been removed. The fig tree is only good for figs and I sit in mystery and I wait to remember what love sounds like, looks like, taste like, smells like and feels like. I wait to know my dad again and to trust in sovereignty, rest in his goodness and be transformed in his love.

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