Waiting for What's Next

Sometimes, as you grow and move forward, your exiting one door leads you to a moment that looks something like this:

A series of doors all open before you awaiting your choice of one of them.  Uncertainty may reign for a while, but no choice is the wrong one and eventually you choose one and your new journey begins.

Other times, however, your movement through a passage looks a little more like this:

Darkness.  With no direction.  No clarity.  Not even a door to be opened.
It's not that you're lost or even in a negative place.
It's more like a moment.
Standing still.
Nothing clearly lit around you.

So, you wait.

That second place is where I am right now. Or where I feel I am anyway.

I feel I've exited a season.
And am entering a new one, uncertain as it may be.

This ending season has been a one of transparency, accountability, and prayerfully, sharing my journey to encourage others along the way.  I've been encouraged back.  And often misunderstood.  My sharing has never been for the purpose of 'laundry-airing' but for complete and open 'this is me, warts and all' transparency.  And most of those who've come along with me get that.  And journey along with me.

But this past month, God made it clear to me that it's time to move forward.
In a deeper, spiritual, get-to-work-sharing-Jesus kind of way.

It's time for my journey to be less about me.
I am changed.
My day to day life has changed.
The way I look at people has changed.
The way I look at church, and worship, and service, and life has changed.
My blog may change.
Even the title.
We'll see.

So, today, as I stand in the darkness, embracing the stillness, I await with anxious heart for what God will reveal to me next.  I am impatient.  I do not like to wait.  But, the morning has not broken yet on this new journey and I trust His timing.

Pray for me.
Pray for each other.
Encourage each other.
We need it.

As I was writing this, another dart from my adversary struck me straight in the depth of my heart and pain poured out in gushes.
Deep wounds, those that leave long gashes as scars, I'm learning, never truly heal.
And the pain, and the tears, flowed.

But at the end of the day, yes even in the darkness of night, long before the sunrise breaks its stillness, I have no need to adorn myself with my pain.  My Great Love wraps His Arms around me and restores my spirit once more.
For my spirit is His and He is mine.

And together, we journey onward.

Peace

I have no astounding revelation.
No amazing insight never before seen heard or shared.
What I've meditated on this morning is not earth shattering.

But, for me, it is powerful.
Once more.

Psalm 6: 7 states "Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God."

If we were to rewrite these words today, they would probably sound like this:

"Some trust in bank accounts and some in doctors, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God."

Been there?

We are not promised tomorrow.
There is a reason God told us not to worry about it.
He's already got tomorrow all worked out.
All we have is today.
This moment.

Christ told us, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."

The disciples even had to learn that their hope could not be in the seen.

For He Himself was about to leave them.

He was telling them He was leaving them.
But leaving His peace with them.

How often do we put our hope and our trust in the seen things of the world?
Bank accounts.
Doctors.
Modern medicine.
Family.
Friends.
Jobs.
Homes.
All of which could be gone.
In an instant.

Have you lost your peace?
Have you lost hold of the abundant joy God has poured out on you?

Christ left the earth.
He left His peace behind.
For the disciples.
For US.

Here.
Free.
For the taking.

East to West

Life is quite the adventure.
I think I've said this before.
It is a series of ups and downs, smooth highways and rocky roads;
Stretches of mundane followed by curves balls around every corner.

Lately I've been limping.
Massaging my sore toes as I've been challenged
GREATLY
outside of my comfort zone.

I'm regularly being called out of my status quo.
And for the most part I am glad.  I am weary of the status quo.
I am ready to be bold.
Daring.
Living my faith
Out Loud
Without fear.

But this past week was a tough one.
I have many thoughts and much to say about Love.
But, God reminded me:  first things first.

And He brought me face to face, once again, with Forgiveness.

An innocent question from a friend brought a flood of emotion that, at first, seemed sudden.
Until I began to pray, and meditate, and chew on all that God has been teaching me lately.
It wasn't sudden.  It was actually right on time.

I have been hurt.  Greatly.
And not just by one.
By many.
And I struggle, more than I care to admit, to let it go.
Really.
I mean really forgive.
I say I do and I act all nice and I say, "Hi, how are you?" and "My, aren't your children precious?" but in my heart of hearts I begrudge.  And I, now and then, stir the embers of my bitter emotion.
For the loved ones who turned their backs on me.
The family who blamed me for the damage in my life.
The brother and sister who set the book of Hosea before me, encouraging me to turn a blind eye to how satan had encamped in my home with my children.
The brother who, after listening to excessive lies, painfully confronted me on my inability to be a submissive wife and honor my husband.
The brothers and sisters who were nowhere to be found when my life fell apart.
Those times I stood alone while others spent time together in laughter.
Those days I sat in my house with broken door locks and grass up past my knees while those who had experienced the same pain I was in never came around.
Many other events and issues along the way that have poured salt in my wounds.
All of these piled on top of the abandonment, lies, and lack of remorse that destroyed my family.

And this past week, all of it, all of the hurt and the anger, emotion boiling just below the surface, arose.  And I've come to accept that it may never entirely go away.  It's part of who I am, who God is molding me into being.  And this experience He will use to further His kingdom on this earth.

But, I am not finished here.
There was another step this past week.
One that, as heart-wrenching as these emotions I've already shared were, was far deeper in meaning.  Far greater in purpose.

After I was all cried out for the time being, exhausted and weary and feeling empty from my inability to let go, God took my step in forgiveness further.
I've had a few specific people on my mind and heart constantly.  Some, I've been very angry with, for a variety of reasons, some of which have nothing to do with me.  And, as often in the past, I have wanted to sit and stew in my frustration toward these folks.  It is easier to be angry.  It is easier to justify my anger and animosity than to actually do what God has been calling me to do.

He's calling me to do more than forgive.
He's calling me to love.

Ouch.

I know why.  And I will share more thought on that later.

But, the first step in my letting go: of my anger and hurt and ill feelings:
To realize a cold, hard truth:

I've had nothing painful done to me that is worse than the pain I have inflicted on my Savior.

Truth:
I let my husband and my family down. I've said it before.  It bears repeating.
I was a self-focused, excuse-making wife.
And I made several bone-headed decisions in the wake of my heartbreak over the death of my marriage that I will forever regret.  That affected those I love the most.  
I've disrespected others.  I've spoken out of both sides of my mouth as I preached grace to others and withheld it as well.

I've had no injury against me worse than the injuries I have inflicted on my Savior.
None of us have.

God tells me He will forgive me in the manner in which I forgive others who've hurt me.
I've hurt Him far greater than anyone has ever hurt me.
Yet, for some reason, I refuse to let go while God tells me the pain I have inflicted can be as far away from me as the east is from the west.  
And I arise to new compassions from His hand every morning.

It's time to forgive.
It's time to stop chewing on my pain.
And the only way I can do that is to see these people
Not as enemies;
Not as heartless, cold, villains.
But as children of my God.

So, this post was a confession:
I have inflicted more hurt than I have ever received.
I have withheld the grace I have so desperately craved.

And it is time.

To
Walk
Forward