Sunday, September 18, 2016

So, Take Heart

The sweet rippling tones of Lake Anne have been calling my name in some capacity for nearly 20 years now. I spent summers in the coolness of her waters watching the joy she brought out of countless littles. She whispered the gentle breeze that wrapped itself around me one night calling to a boy to offer me the warmth of his sweater. She sat quietly by years later and watched as that boy got on one knee and asked me to spend forever with him. I love the comfort of her space. Since I returned to French Camp I’ve spent a lot of my days biking around Lake Anne. I’ve always stayed on the trails that hug her outer edges so that I can see glimpses of her as I go along. That is me in life. I have always hugged close to the spaces that make me feel safe. The luscious green areas of life that are comfortable, enjoyable … peaceful.


This past week I finally went off those trails in search of School Mountain. As I followed a trusted friend's directions, I turned away from Lake Anne and out of the luscious peaceful green. The space I entered was barren, ugly, and void of any protection. The hot sun beat down in an excruciating, painful way.  I sat on a felled log and looked around wondering why anyone would come out there. Then like an arrow straight to my heart, I looked around and realized this was me. This was me right in that second. This place was how I felt deep inside. And I cried the deepest, best cry of my life. I’ve been trying to stay close to the peaceful places in my life in an attempt to avoid the painful things. Sitting there I realized that ugly space was doing something. It was barren because it had been logged. It was providing something someone needed and eventually it would all grow back. The painful things in my life I keep avoiding are doing something. They are producing something.
 

And I kid you not, I asked God to speak this truth into my life right then and there and I opened up my bible study I had brought along, and there… right there


Go to those places that are painful, sit in the uncomfortable, and let it produce something in you that only it, in all of its ugliness, can produce. It’s okay. And I am here to tell you the hard truth. Some people will ask you not to sit there because it makes them uncomfortable. Just remember that it is doing something for you, not them. 

This blog also stands as a disclaimer for everyone in my life: I am sitting in a barren place right now. The sun is beating down on me. MInistry is hard. It is full of hurts and disappointments that can leave you broken before the Lord. I'm spending some time sitting in those hard places and praying for God's guidance.

In the meantime, the Lord reminds me that my troubles are light and momentary. In the weight of eternity, so are yours. So, take heart!