surprise

I rounded the corner of the mount, striving to catch my breath and run harder after weeks without regular runs. The day boasted the usual pigeon-grey sky but with some distant visibility. Glancing by habit towards the mountain (usually hidden) I did a double take for beauty surprised me--the snowy peak rose glistening in the half-light. My pace slowed as I drank it in.

This past week I had the privilege to attend a surprise 50th birthday party for a friend. It got me thinking about surprise and how that affects our lives. In English we say, “oh, you surprised me” “you caught me off guard” “I wasn’t expecting that” “I wasn’t ready...” and so on. Being “on guard” and having “expectations” always ready conjure up in my mind a soldier--armed, protected with his defenses up--and it truly is how many people walk through life, myself included. I expect people to act a certain way and I put up the necessary walls in order to protect myself from the hurts that come when I am unprepared. And most of the time it works marvelously; that is, people do live up to my expectations. But some people don’t. 

Last Saturday I worked the WV booth at a woman’s conference and I have to admit, going into it I was expecting to not enjoy it at all. Lots of women, after all, is not my idea of a good time. Too much estrogen and cutesy sermons. But God surprised me. The two woman who spoke were authors and amazing, weaving talks of dreams and God’s miraculous leading of those who are willing to live dangerous lives that love others beyond the hurt. Unprepared for a message that cut straight to the vulnerable heart of where I was living, I wept. Amazed at a God who delights in cutting past the walls we weave to protect us from love. 

A song I heard today goes like this...

I was born to laugh / I learned to laugh through my tears / I was born to love / I'm gonna learn to love without fear

A bit ago, I walked down a stream of thoughts in my head to the place where I--hopefully reverently--said “I told You so”, being that things were turning out the way I expected them to back when He asked for my surrender. The inevitable pain, the brokenness and then it hit me how much I don’t want things to turn out the way I expect them to. I serve Him partly in hopes that the miraculous can happen--that He will tell me so. A surprisingly wonderful life is what my silly heart really wants deep down.

I realize that I don’t want to live a safe life. Even looking back over this last year of pain and the potential for pain that is in some of my relationships this year I make a choice. Maybe a life without surprises means less heart attacks or strokes, less bleeding hearts to mend. But it also means less times of wonder. Less moments when you pause, gazing at a flock of birds, white underwings in formation sailing into a grey sky. Less surges of hope in the smile of a friend. Less opportunities to find at the end of yourself when you walk off the flatbed you are “walking on the hand of God” (_Peace Like A River_).