May God continue to surprise you, may love continue to astonish you, may life continue to captivate you…

This was the first part of the blessing spoken over us today at ACB, the community of faith that Leigh and I call home. It was spoken as a sending out at the close of the service. The relationship between the three nouns and the three verbs in this statement has clung to me today.

That God would be surprising…

At what point did such a concept of a surprising God become strange? Even now, the idea is a bit unnerving. I’m not sure I want God to truly surprise me, because that would most certainly mean he is challenging me, taking me somewhere I have not planned, showing me something I have not already imagined and prepared myself to see. Sometimes I think that when we prayer for God to surprise us, we’re actually asking for something very specific, like a person who knows exactly what birthday gift he or she is receiving, but feigns surprise to make the exchange all the more exciting for everybody involved. In other words, God can surprise us by coming through with something that we want – but the surprise will be more in how it all worked out than in the fact that it worked out at all. A perfect example of this is found in my current search for a job when Leigh and I return to the States this summer. I want God to surprise me … by somehow conjuring up a position and smoothing out the interview and hiring process. I know exactly what I want – the surprise of actually getting it won’t really be all that surprising, but if I had my druthers, I’d take the job over an actual surprise ten time out of ten. The thought of God actually surprising me – moving me somewhere and into something I am not ready for, that I have not previously envisioned – well, now, that’s a frightening thought. That would mean I’m not in control. That would mean that God doesn’t play by the rules I have established for my life. That would make God much more real and active and sovereign than I want him to be.

That love would be astonishing…

On the other hand, who doesn’t want this one, right? We all want to be astonished by love … but, then again, the word “surprise” sneaks up as a synonym. Truthfully, we want to be astonished by love as long as relationships stay the same, and as long as there is no hard work involved in instigating astonishment. How much does it depend on me to make love astonishing? That reservation goes for any kind of love: brotherly, romantic, familial. I’m okay with a lack of astonishment as long as things keep cruising at a comfortable setting. We’re as eager to be astonished by love as we are to be surprised by God. If love becomes astonishing, it would mean we have surrendered to its power, that we have recognized and submitted to the fact that all forms of love, if they are to be fully expressed, require sacrifice. Loving someone means to deny yourself in favor of the connection forged, and the greater depth we desire in the connection, the more sacrifice is required on our part. Love will astonish us only when we’ve stripped off our selfishness and donned the less popular coat of selflessness.

That life would be captivating…

I suppose this is what I’m up to with this blog. I want to be captivated by life. I don’t just want it to mean something, I want it to mean a thousand somethings all at once. I want eyes that glimpse even the littlest wonderstuffs in each day. I realize now, though, that such a desire can only go so far. Just like encountering a surprising God, life can only captivate when I’m willing to release the reigns of control. And my eyes will only glimpse the beauty of this life once I have learned to put the priority of my comfort aside.

These things seem like abstract resolutions, but I know they manifest themselves in many practical ways throughout my days and weeks. I understand, now, why this “blessing” was meant to send us out. It is a challenge. Almost a dare. Relinquish control. Let go of comfort.

I wonder if I even have it in me to accept the challenge.