Fear and Trembling and Stupefying

I just 'pinched-hit' today for someone by teaching on Philippians 2:12-18. In 2:12 Paul mentions the phrase "fear and trembling" when talking about working out salvation. This phrase was made famous by Soren Kierkegaard, and after teaching through it this morning, I'm still 'working it out' myself.

The fullness of what it means that God is working out our salvation within us, both the willing and the doing, is only now hitting home.  The jury's still out in my court over predestination, but I have to say that mainly there is a lack of evidence we're just not seeing.  Today I have been blessed to see how God has been at work in my life over the past few months.  In the spirit of the movie "Memento" and Kierkegaard's own "Life must be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards," here I go.

I taught today because Mark was preaching.
Mark was preaching because Debbie was sick.
Mark agreed to preach because he already studied the text earlier that week.
Mark studied the test earlier that week because he was filling in for me leading that bible study.
I was able to brief him for the study on the lesson's text because I led a study earlier on the same text.
The only reason I was leading a study on THAT text was because I "happened" to be on fall break from my seminary class that usually prevents me from even attending the study.
I was only taking that seminary class because all other options didn't work out.

From the very beginning, even before what I've written above, God was 'working it out' that Mark would be able to preach within 24 hours of being called upon.  That's stupefying. 

Is it possible that God has orchestrated your life so that you are where you are right here, right now?  Is there some greater purpose God is preparing for you, right here, right now?

Using another Kierkegaard phrase, "the strength of the absurd" rests in believing that God is at work beyond our seeing, beyond understanding, beyond even our comprehension.  Reason and knowledge alone won't get us there.  It takes faith in some form - sometimes a leap, sometimes an itsy-bitsy step - but always willing to believe beyond what we see.