Intersections

Happy anniversary Old Man Neta.

It’s one of those days when the veil between here and the unseen world is thin. I don’t know if it will ever feel normal. I could never take it for granted. Already - but not yet. His kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven.

All day it’s been like I’m sitting at an intersection. Go straight, and we’ll go round again. Familiar and predictable. I’ll end up back here. Turn left or right - that way is less familiar, rough terrain. But me? I always seem to end up back here at this intersection - with him and with Him - tired, but confident. Almost always ready to go again. I’m getting better at choosing to go straight. Only a little bit wiser.

People tell me I’m good with words. These days I present a high word count but rarely land the story. I’ve been challenged of late to know my testimony and be ready to share it. Sharing is not my problem. Oversharing is. Nobody has time to listen to how many times I’ve come back to this intersection. Sitting with him and with Him.

I can’t pinpoint the moment He got in the car. It’s before he was - way before that. When did I first encounter Jesus? What’s the moment I supposedly can’t stop talking about? I feel like I’m failing the task if I answer, “all of it.” But that’s currently the best I’ve got - I’ve encountered Jesus through all of it.

Two days ago, in a rambling rabbit hole of a conversation, a new friend had a shot at sharing his testimony with me in 5 sentences. I think he’s younger than me, so he has an advantage. Less life to pack in. I think he nailed it. I can’t do it yet. It’s good to have goals.

Somewhere in my early 20’s, I taught my boyfriend to drive. It was a pretty good test of our ability to do life together. Today we celebrate 20 years of marriage. We are polar opposites, so doing anything together is wildly exhilarating or extremely frustrating. As we have nudged through life together, most days have been a combination of both. It’s the moment that we intersect that we find gold; when our individual strengths hold the other’s weakness. Salt and pepper.

And there are so many circles and intersections:
He goes to work, I do family logistics. He comes home. Intersect. Repeat
Baby #1. He takes a few days off. Intersect.
He brings me coffee each morning. Intersect.
Baby #2, 3, 4, 5. Intersect.
Church each Sunday. Intersect.
Summer camping holidays. Intersect.
5, 10, 15, 20 years. Intersect.

Every time we get to the red light, a green one comes. We just keep going.

I don’t think he could tell you when He jumped in the ute either. Jesus has been there all along. He has for both of us. Neta won’t talk about it non-stop though. We’re different like that.

We’ve done a few circles of homes now. Auckland. Tapanui. Christchurch. We didn’t plan it. We just kept driving straight with Him at each intersection. That’s the way the circle bent.

Since we arrived in this home, we have both experienced the Holy Spirit in a new way. We both thought we already knew Him, but He surprised us. If you can get my straight-faced husband to talk about that moment for him, his face will light up with tears in his eyes. If I talk about my moment, I will fail to land the story. You’ll find me speechless. Different moments, same story and both of us forever opposites.

It struck me last night as I pulled up to a familiar intersection of overwhelm and he prayed for me - it’s the same Spirit. It’s the same Him. I think I’d forgotten. We are found forever in His grace, and I’m forever with the same him.