Meghan Gouldin, As I stumble along

I saw a hilarious Broadway musical in New York a few months ago. The musical, The Drowsy Chaperone, is an endearing tale of a man who invites you into the reenactment of his favorite Broadway musical. It’s a play within a play, a story within a story. One of my favorite songs from The Drowsy Chaperone, called “As We Stumble Along,” is sung in a somewhat drunken stupor by the title character, the drowsy chaperone:

 As we stumble along
on life's funny journey.
As we stumble along
into the blue.
We look here and we look there.
Seeking answers anywhere.
Never sure of where to turn or what to do.

 The drowsy chaperone mixes words and metaphors in the song, and concludes that our only hope is in the bluebird’s song that we can faintly hear from a distance.  I laugh at her clumsiness, and chuckle to myself at how much I feel the same way in my journey with the Lord.  As I try to walk by faith and not by sight, when I’m honest with myself, I realize that most days it more closely resembles a stumble than it does a walk.

I’m learning, ever so slowly, to be comfortable in the stumbling. Because in the stumbling, I’m seeing a pattern. God is bigger than my mistakes, my shortcomings, my inadequacies. During times of identifiable uncertainty in my life, I can see with increased clarity that I’m truly stumbling along.

I am finding that times of uncertainty – in uncertain times at work, in relationships, in health – I am left seeking. And I seek, and I seek, and I seek. It’s usually because I messed something up, and it’s too big for me to fix or make new.  And, eventually, when I’m exhausted from seeking and stumbling along, a still, soft voice reminds me that He’s got me.

As I stumble I’m reminded of my own limitations, and I’m made to see that all good gifts come from Him in His timing. And, in the brief moment that I recognize this, I can take a single step with confidence.  Because mine is a story within a greater story. My stumbling happens in light of Jesus’s sacrifice.

This past Easter season, Jesus's last words on the cross stuck with me: “It is finished.”  The Greek verb used here is tetelestai, and it is in the perfect tense. The meaning of the word tetelestai in the perfect tense is: it has been and remains forever accomplished. The work is done. The words bring me great comfort as I stumble along on life’s funny journey.  Although I’m seeking answers, I’m realizing that in the stumbling is sometimes where He does his greatest work in me. As I stumble, I am humbly reminded that His love will catch me and guide me this time and the next because He already did the work.  Because it is finished, I have the privilege of stumbling my way home to the love of a Father.

Comments

[Bryan Bond]

Thank you Meghan - that little vignette really struck a chord with me, even though I'm a "veteran" Xtian, whatever that means! It was a sweet and encouraging reminder that He gets glory in our weakness and stumbling. Great writing! Bryan Bond RUF Campus Minister Tennessee Tech U.