The Best Part

What I long to do most is theoretically impossible. I feel like
God is intentionally leading me down two opposite paths while
yelling into my mind contradicting words. But the pressure of
making a decision while wading in a pool of uncertainty and fear,
…is the Best Part!

The angels show up with lawn chairs to watch the cross section of the
second we live in before falling off the world--one way or the other.
The moment’s high request of faith shakes their heels like an earthquake.
Do they long to feel such uncertainty like us and yet wager all on a
man we’ve never seen who begs to wash our worries with our feet?
They are jealous of the secret that tried saints treasure most: the
anguish and fear of failing gurgling inside the bones,
…is the Best Part!

How could I be like Christ if I have never prayed, “Not my will,
but yours”? How could Christ be like me if he never made his mother
cry at what he knew he had to do? He tells me in the garden, “Regardless of
what you decide, I will stay up with you all night.” And when Peter,
like me, tried to stop the coming pain, Jesus said, “Put your sword
away! Shall I not drink the cup?” Perhaps He added softly: “This,
…is the Best Part!”

The power that comes with failing comes like an unexpected tornado;
when God shows up because we’ve said: “Nothing can be shown
without you showing-- I am a mole trying to dig a tunnel to the stars.”
That’s when all the power in the entire universe has your back because
you’ve acknowledged it doesn’t have a bone. And that moment, birthed
in the embarrassing weakness of Adam and the ability and love of Christ,
…is the Best Part!

Sometimes I think the only part of Earth I’ll miss in Heaven
is this failing flesh of mine, because the closest I can get to seeing
his face is remembering I am faceless. But the Joy of
Eternity will be better than all my glorious failures, because
He has promised on that day “we shall see face to face.” And He,
…is the Best Part!