I gave you milk, not solid food, 
for you were not yet ready for it. ~ I Corinthians 3:2

Tiny threads begin to separate as the fabric of my faith thus far unravels into something far more precious than before. God is undoing me, strand by strand, in great ways and small ways, for His glory and my good, and I know not why or precisely where it will lead.

I have long gulped the infant-milk of Christianity, swallowed the pre-digested Word filtered through others in devotional form, until my belly now swells satisfactorily and I rest in the comfort of easy answers and explanations long ago accepted.

But what good is it to drink the milk when we were made for teeth and flesh and the hard gristle that runs alongside and throughout the meat? What benefit to suckle and remain small, juvenile, when the nourishment of the Holy Mystery awaits?

I have been lazy, and I have been complacent. And in His love and grace He is calling me out, calling me to grow up, reach up, look beyond easy answers and Sunday School stories to the evidence of His mighty hand in this world and in my flesh. He calls me to look within at ugly places long hidden, long known to Him despite my best efforts at disguise. My Father wants to clean house, and His white glove exists only and ever for my refinement. He has torn the veil in two and bids me into His presence, into the full knowledge of His glory and power, and I am undone, face down, gasping for breath in His shadow.

In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers,
you need someone to teach you the elementary truths
of God’s word all over again. You need milk, not solid food!
Anyone who lives on milk, being still an infant,
is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness.
But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use
have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil.
~ Hebrews 5:12-14

I have no map. I have no timetable, no gauge by which to measure my progress or the breadth of His infinite plan, and He calls my blindness good. He has rendered me mute for many weeks now, allowed no oasis of words in this parched desert — only sight, and feeling, and wave upon wave of knowing in this landlocked sea.

So I wait. I listen. I drink deep the thoughts and emotions and questions that threaten to overtake me in this place of silence, stillness before Him. Here live questions and holiness, deep wounds and deeper grace.

I trade my soft spoon and clumsy fingers for fork and knife, for tools that pierce flesh to extract nourishment and maturity from the meat of His Holy Word. I am learning to chew, to savor, to dig deep for that which feeds body and soul as He slowly draws back the curtain to reveal His glory…

Therefore let us move beyond the elementary teachings 
about Christ and be taken forward to maturity…
~ Hebrews 6:1

Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.

~ C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

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{Linking up with Ann today ~ The Practice of Gospel: Looking for New Life}

photo credit: © iamnotandrewlee via flickr creative commons