not-yet

There are some days when I feel as though there is a pressure just under my skin. Some days it feels like an artist’s impulse…and many times I can’t put my finger on it. There are all kinds of things that spark this feeling, but after 31 yrs I’m still trying to figure out what it means…how to respond…how to tap in and pour out.
I’m reading RT Kendall on ‘anointing’ right now, so that’s got me thinking. He talks about how our personal anointing flows in the areas of life that we engage and do without fatigue. To which I respond: what about all the people who talk about how often we must do the 80% of life that is monotonous and annoying so that we can engage the 20% that makes us come alive? Is a life of anointing really stress free? I’m just a tad skeptical.
Consider Mike Rowe and his stimulating talk (http://www.ted.com/talks/mike_rowe_celebrates_dirty_jobs.html) on how our society has declared war on hard work. Is this life really all about ‘following our dreams’? Is 'anointing' all about tapping into some hidden spring of creative genius/bliss? Have we unconsciously coddled a spirituality that says that a life demanding hard work, inspiring doubt-filled moments, and stretching us beyond where it hurts is void of anointing? What if my anointing is this pressure under my skin…this holy compulsion I sense…an ever-present and never-fulfilled hunger sparked by His Spirit to keep me moving?
I get the sense that my dreams are often God’s way of forming holy discontent in my life. Dreams are from the worlds of not-yet and oh-how-i-long. My dreams and anointing and divine compulsion and gifting and imaginations are all like winds that blow. Sometimes I capture them with the ‘sails’ of my life, and hurtle into those moments of vibrancy, passion, and engagement that I wish I could bottle up and down later on. But sometimes those winds are like a storm. They swirl, buffet and bluster…leaving me cold-faced, numb and disoriented. Sometimes it feels like there is no wind…and I nearly die of spiritual thirst in the doldrums of my life-journey. And other times the winds whisper…I feel their inklings…the sails stir…but I feel that I ‘miss’ them by not responding quickly/rightly.
There isn’t a lesson in all these thoughts so much as a conclusion that I MUST always remember that I am in transit. In them is the reminder that on the vast ‘ocean’ of my life, currents and winds are conjured and directed by One who is greater.
And…
wind or not, I ache to sail…to explore…to see…to crest a wave and discover new lands. This morning, I’m driven by dreams of not-yet…