Postcards from Approaching the Edge...

I wrote a few days ago about an inner yearning to recapture a place on the prophetic edge that Kelsey and I often talk about. It was in reference to a time of being called into something that we were clueless about, unequipped to do, and petrified to embrace...and we went for it. In the post, I wrote:

I want back on that edge...even as I sense it materializing on the horizon. I may not have my fingers locked into it yet, but I'm reaching, and it's getting nearer. People like us, we were not meant to live in the center. We were destined for the fringe. I'm sensing that we'll be there again very, very soon.

Something about that post resonated with people, because I received a fair amount of email about it. Everyone wants out there, even if they're not sure what out there is, because out there seems so much more exciting than right here. People will take there over here nearly every time.

Today, I felt a little bit out there. Not all the way, but just the beginnings of what I encountered that summer some years ago. I felt the hunger, both physical and spiritual. I felt the sense of unease, the gentle realization that so much of what I strive for us both unfulfilling and unsustaining. I think I'm crawling back out there, and you know what?

It's horrible out here.

It's uncomfortable, awkward and (in the short term) feels unfulfilling. Get near the edge and you hear a few answers...but your questions increase exponentially. It's like shining a bright flashlight against a pitch black wall....the light signifies what you know, and where it borders the dark represents what you don't know. The bigger your flashlight, the more contact with the dark...and the more aware you are that the black wall is freaking huge. Back when you had a laser pointer, you suspected you were lighting up half the wall. Now you know better. It's the great prophetic wall of China, for all you know.

I spent the day on edge. And nearing the edge. Sitting on the couch in my office, sipping coffee and staring at the text of Amos. Feeling the reality of the words in my bones, even as I pondered them in my head. How can you feel truth even when you don't think you fully understand it. It gives me new appreciation for the phrase 'shut up in my bones....'.

It feels to me more like June 2000 than Februrary 2007. Back then, entered into a long season of fasting, the front 3/4 which felt like death on a stick...but then the Lord spoke and all heaven broke loose. It's the promise of the edge...that He is out there, just beyond our natural grasp, waiting until we come to the end of ourselves so He can supernaturally arrest us.

Maybe the edge we're looking for is the edge of us.
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opening photo reference: Kyle Wade, Tim Nichols, Adam Mosley and myself, circa 2000, peering over the edge on a multitude of levels. Origins of the beater Mercedes in the background is unknown.