A New Start(er)

This morning at 10:30 I was sitting at O'Henry's drinking coffee, which doesn't sound unusual except that I was supposed to be at work. I went to take the school newspapers to the downtown post office for the mail out and then went to another post office to mail a package on my way back to work. I got in my car, put the key in the ignition, and...nothing. It was completely silent. I knew enough to check all the obvious mistakes I could have made like leaving the light on or not having the car in park, but it all looked normal. And, as the picture indicates, it was actually my starter. Thankfully, there were two service stations within walking distance as well as a coffee shop. Besides the $250 that are no longer in my checking account, this couldn't have happened at a better time; my students were in exams so I wasn't missing anything pertinent at work and not two days ago, we received our tax return in the mail. In the words of my father-in-law, "The Lord takes care of His own."
The last 3-4 weeks have been an unhealthy but somewhat unavoidable whirlwind of activity, causing me to neglect what I love and need most--namely, time with my Savior. Last Friday, I saw the movie Prince Caspian. There is a scene in which Lucy sees Aslan and runs to him, hugging his mane. She then sits down with him in the forest while war and chaos ensue through the rest of Narnia, and she talks with him contentedly without a distraction from the outside world or a desire to be anywhere else. It was at that moment that I saw what I longed to have but had been avoiding with busyness.
I just finished reading a phenomenal article in the Journal of Biblical Counseling by Edward T. Welch. Here is an excerpt that stood out to me: "Our behavior reveals our relationship with god. The reason God is foreign to so much of our conscious thought is that we want Him to be distant. Our sense is that He makes demands on us that we don't want. In our hearts, we want a kind of friendly divorce where God goes His way, we go ours and no one is hurt. That, however, is not how life really works."
This begs the question: what demands do I feel God makes on me that I don't want? If I'm honest, I'm afraid I'll have to face my sin and change, that I'll have to yield my precious plans to His will, that He may call me to dark an difficult places. Even writing those thoughts exposes the lies that I am believing. The truth is that confession is always coupled with forgiveness, that God's grace is greater than my sin, that a change toward righteousness is always worthwhile, that His ways are higher than mine, that He is supremely sovereign, and that He offers hope at all times--even in the dark places. As Welch wrote, "Even in our hardship, He is doing good. Sometimes the good is that He is teaching us to trust Him."
I've been reading through the Psalms (one a day) for the past week or so and god has met me there, turning me more and more away from myself and toward Him and His truths. After a whirlwind of activity, He is stilling my soul and I can't imagine a better place to be that sitting and interacting with the Lion of Judah Himself.