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.