Saturday was a complete and utter gift. It was our third Art & Prayer Workshop, and although I'm no longer surprised in the ways Jesus often shows up and works in our lives during this experience, it's always a surprise to see where and how he works.
Feeling a bit in the groove of the timing of the day (and no longer feeling the neurotic need to keep checking the time to make sure we're "right on it," whatever that even meant) I was able to sink into the experiential space, to process my own feelings surfacing through this visual and Scriptural process.
Sitting on the pebbled front porch of the home we met in, with my Prismacolor markers and a technicolor rainbow pencil, over and over I heard with great comfort: "Trust the process." It's a message close to my heart these past years, and in this moment it not only applied to the process I was facilitating for those who attended the workshop, but also in my own life. As I sat with it a deeper meaning emerged.
I'm invited to trust the process not only in the workshop, in my journey with Jesus -- but in the details, too. Trust the process in my health, in my finances, in my vocation. Trust the process. Just show up, and let Jesus do his thing. It's not a recipe for success, but a relinquishment of the control I fool myself into thinking I have. I can't guarantee the outcome, I can only respond to the invitation. And that's a really uncomfortable thought for me. I love control. It tastes and feels so good at times. But there's no adventure, no risk, no freedom ... no life in security and control.
I walk from this workshop with a beautiful reminder to trust, to go out, to speak forth ... and watch what happens. Like a seed underground, I can only plant it there. I cannot make it grow. I can participate, but I cannot control.
Jesus, have mercy.