So I feel a bit crazy. Like I'm riding this out of control roller coaster, cresting these hills only to plummet once again. Hoping for the safety of the turnstiles while still thrilled by the excitement of the ride (well, excitement coupled with sheer terror, if that makes any sense at all). I'm holding on, white knuckled, eyes wide in anticipation, fear, excitement, adrenaline. As I think through the experience of riding a coaster and how it seems to correlate with my life, I come to some interesting realizations.

First and foremost, I want my life to be more progressive than a coaster. Not that zipping along at high speeds isn't "moving." It certainly is movement at it's most exhilarating. But movement doesn't always imply progress, unfortunately. If you think about it, you can really enjoy a coaster. You can enjoy it over and over. But it will never change. The track takes you back to the same station every time. You crest the same hills, fly over the same track. Over and over you will circle, never really going anywhere. Even the most exciting coaster would start to get old, boring, complacent even after a couple dozen loops, don't you think? I don't want infinite circles of the same track for my life. I want to go somewhere. Mentally, physically, spiritually... I want to be transformed continually, becoming more and more like what God wants me to be every day. Sure, I am who I am, and there is such JOY in being me (when I remember to BE... see yesterday's post). And there are things about me - talents, gifts, habits, hurts, characteristics that God molded into me that will always be a part of the very fiber of my being. But I am so imperfect, and God knows it. He told me that He'd be spending a lifetime working on me, if only I'd let Him- and that He would carry on that work until the day of completion in Christ. So I don't want to be stuck in an endless loop. I want to be learning, growing, stretching, morphing into His plan for my life.

The second lesson (and this one slapped me across the face... and trust me, it hurt- but aren't those the best kind?) that God placed on my heart was about trust. When that roller coaster gets terrifying (in a thrilling way... sick, huh), I never question whether or not I'll make it back to the station. I never try to steer the car in another direction, or find a way to apply brakes to the train. Sure, I may hold on for dear life. I may scream a little or even give the restraint a quick tug-check. But I just believe in the safety of the design. I trust that the car will stay on track, that I will stay in my seat, that the brakes will work when they are supposed to, and that the forces at work will all come together to make for a thrilling but safe ride. So why is it so hard for me to trust God with the same child-like faith? Why do I try to manipulate my position to find a place that feels "safer" to me? Why do I try to slam on brakes that don't exist or that I have no control over? Why do I look all around me for reassurances that the track will still be there and my car will stay on it? Why can't I just sit tight, hold on to Him for dear life, and enjoy the thrill and terror and exhiliration and blessing of life here on earth. When I'm riding that roller coaster, I just know that I am safe. My mind doesn't question it. And when I'm sitting in my closet at 6:30am every day with my coffee and my Bible I know I am safe. It is the safest, most peaceful, most fulfilling, most essential part of my day. If only I could carry that same faith and peace and trust with me in all hours of my life. I wouldn't have to look anywhere else for safety or fulfillment or affirmation... because there is only one place where I am safe. One place to be fulfilled. One power that can affirm me. And He's with me all the time.

So as I do this thing we call life, my prayer is that I learn to live my life like a roller coaster... with unquestioning faith and trust. But that I never let myself live like a roller coaster... repeating the same mistakes and habits or becoming complacent in my walk. And hopefully I'll learn to enjoy the terrifying thrills with sheer abandon, while always seeking the next coaster along the way.