When the fog lifts...

As Calvin and I drove to the doctor this morning for his 4 year well check, there was thick fog. It was so difficult to see very far ahead, because visibility was bad. It immediately reminded me of life as we know it right now.

Yesterday was a rough day. It wasn't because anything bad happened or anything happened at all. Therein lies the problem. We have been stuck for eight months in a holding pattern. We have been stuck circumstantially, emotionally, spiritually and relationally. Of course there have been ups and downs in all of these areas along the way, but for the most part we have felt like we're in a rut that we just can't seem to escape. When we go on a trip or people come to visit, it allows us to take a break from our present reality. When the trip or visit ends, we are forced to return and face what's really happening...nothing. That's one of the reasons yesterday was such a discouraging day. My in-laws had been in town and we were 'on vacation' for a while. Let me back up and fill in some holes.

Early in 2013, Brandon and I began to discuss and pray about possibly leaving Fellowship Church and Lubbock. Brandon began to feel the tug and need to step away from ministry for a time. I began to feel an unsettled restlessness at my job/ministry that I loved. It was evident that God was beginning to move in our hearts to prepare us for something new. We just didn't know what. (Ironically, we still don't. At least not exactly.)

Throughout the year and circumstances and a lot of prayer, our path led to Colorado Springs. With a little fear and a giant step of faith, we both resigned our jobs, sold our house (very quickly) and received confirmation through various avenues that this was what we were supposed to do. One of the main reasons we ended up in Colorado is because we have family here who had space for us to live, opened their home to us and offered a place of respite and peace while we figured out what was next.

When we stepped out in faith alone, we didn't consciously or verbally express specific expectations, but we have come to learn that we definitely had them. We expected that Brandon would be able to find a decent job fairly quickly. We expected that this living situation would be somewhat short-term (6 months-ish). We expected that this time would be restful and a time of peaceful preparation for what God had in store. When you have expectations that go unmet, the result is always feelings of frustration, betrayal and even anger.

Eight months later, here we are. There has been exactly one interview and no job offers. We are daily tempted to despair and we fight it with every ounce of our beings. We have been through the gamut of emotions, good and bad. I'm not whining, complaining or asking for pity, because the fog reminded me this morning of something very important: we are exactly where we are supposed to be.

No part of this decision seems logical or practical. That's not really how Jesus tends to show us Himself. As I cautiously drove through the thick, misty fog, it occurred to me that this is where we are right now. We are unable to see what might be right in front of us or miles down the road and incapable of figuring out an answer on our own. We cannot control the future any more than we can control the weather. I trusted that the brakes on my car would do their job if I suddenly saw something in front of me. I also, at my core, trust that my God will provide clarity and direction in His perfect time. I don't have to like it or respond perfectly to it to believe the truth of it. The simple truth is that right now, for a great purpose, the next steps for us have not been revealed. We are operating day-to-day life in a heavy fog. Until God chooses to cause the fog to lift, we have no other choice.

However, spiritually, the fog is beginning to lift. Just as when I drove on and suddenly I could clearly see buildings, trees, mountains, other cars, God is allowing me to begin to see the beautiful works He is accomplishing in this process of waiting on Him. Last night Brandon and I sat down and did the last thing in the world we felt like doing. We composed a list of everything we could think of since we moved in November 2013 until today that showed us God's blessings and faithfulness in our lives. The list went on and on. It was easy to come up with numerous ways God proved Himself a keeper of promises. In about 20 minutes we listed 36 things off the top of our heads! We didn't stop because we ran out of things. We stopped because it was late and we were tired. We did commit to continue to add to this list and keep the faithfulness of God at the forefront of our minds, rather than the negative, discouraging thoughts that threaten to invade.

God is so good. And He's good, even when we can't see it.
He is ever faithful. And He's faithful, even when we don't feel like He is.
God is so loving. And He loves us at our worst.

So, as we look ahead, our focus remains on today and what we can see. We have hope in our hearts that the fog will lift, the sun will shine and God's perfect record of faithfulness will remain intact.

"For your steadfast love is great above the heavens; your faithfulness reaches to the clouds." Psalm 108:4 

Chronicles of Running: Week 3.2 (Burdens & Blessings)

My second running day last week was challenging in a different way. Brandon and Calvin were in Denver for the day, so it was Luke (7 months old) and me. I really wanted to run and take advantage of the nice weather, so I did something kinda crazy. I put Luke in the jogging stroller and off we went. It was so hard. I had taken for granted the fact that when it was just me, all I had to think about was...well, me. Now I was constantly checking to make sure his blanket wasn't falling, the sun and wind were not in his face, the bumps weren't too bumpy, he didn't fall out when we were going downhill. Not to mention the tremendous difficulty it was to push him (and more significantly, the extremely heavy stroller) uphill. I love Luke as much as I can possibly love a human being, but he was, without a doubt, a burden and an obstacle to a smooth and simple run.

So, it made me really begin to think about the burdens and baggage we carry with us. I believe that some of the burdens we bear are not by choice and may even be necessary for a bigger purpose. Sometimes God calls us to walk through a desert season ourselves so we can truly, and with clarity, appreciate the refreshment of the rain. Other times we are asked to bear burdens with one another. This can be such a noble opportunity with great rewards or most likely will go unnoticed. In any case, burdens usually have a negative connotation but by definition, are not necessarily bad. Hard does not always equal bad.

Then, there is the unnecessary baggage that we choose. It does not benefit us or anyone around us. It creates obstacles in our relationships and inhibits us from opening up, being honest and trusting others. It keeps us in bondage to our pasts and perhaps even to people who have hurt us. The great thing about this negative burden-carrying is that it's a choice, and we have the power to change it. We have the option to put it down and walk away from it. We have to learn to discern between what is a profitable and productive burden to bear and which burdens are useless and counter-productive if we continue holding onto them. 

My third run of the week was baby and stroller-free, and I appreciated it more than I could have ever imagined. Once we have carried something around for a long time, and it's heavy and difficult to manage, we even get used to it and forget that we might be crumbling under the weight of it. That makes the freedom of releasing it so much sweeter and more satisfying. A lighter burden or none at all enables us to walk in freedom and live our lives the way we are meant to live them. 

As I ran, feeling freer and lighter, I noticed that I was focusing on the ground in front of me. I have this spectacular mountain view right in front of me, and I'm looking at the ground. By the time I realized it and began to focus my attention upward to take advantage of the scenery, trees and houses were blocking my view and I had missed my chance.

With this experience I felt a warning for the burden-free times, as well. When things are easier and seem to be going my way, I lose sight of my need for God. I begin to let my focus drift and become lazy. Sometimes the hardest times to be intentional about focusing on the Rock is not when things are difficult, but it's when they are calm and simple. This is the most important time for me to battle complacency and fight to depend on Him, especially when I feel like I can do it on my own. Timing is everything, and if we wait until there are too many obstacles to block our view of Him, then it can take a lot of time, energy and maneuvering to regain focus where it should have been all along.

So, here's what I get to look at when I run...just one example. My husband posted a similar picture from the same path earlier this week, and it's just funny how your environment (and the work of a magnificent Artist) can inspire you to do things you never thought you would.