Until our shins are lined with bruises
One year ago I returned to America from the World Race. Two days ago I finished orientation with Adventures in Missions and my first part of long-term training. To say the time between those dates has been wild is an understatement, and as much as I wish I could write about every single thing that happened from the plane landing on American soil to me sitting here once again by the lake in Gainesville, Georgia, I just can’t. But what I can write about is what the Lord has taught me through it all.
To sum up my year in a few big moments, it went like this: I got home from the Race, moved to Georgia for discipleship school, my sister was diagnosed with cancer, and I decided to move to India. Of course along the way I had more than one job, met some of the absolute best people on the whole planet, and traveled all over the country. I lived a lot of my favorite moments and cried a lot of tears in Jessie Johnston’s lap. I asked the Lord all the cliché questions like “why?” “how?” and “when?” and His answer has always been the same; it’s a gentle embrace of His spirit and a peace no man will ever understand.
Yesterday a friend and I were in a river. Long story short, we fell out of our tubes, the tubes floated away, and we needed to get to the other side. That sounds like the start of a bad joke, but welcome to our lives. We hit the bottom with every step we took along the slippery rocks, but we were determined to get across as quickly as possible. We kept stumbling along until bruises lined our shins. That’s what a lot of my days this year have looked like- trying to stand on my own two feet, only to be knocked down again and again. Looking at what’s here and what’s coming, and wondering how I’ll make it. Not really knowing what’s happening, and hurting nonetheless.
Then I remembered I can simply swim with the current. I’m in a moving river and can use that to my advantage. The Lord is carrying me in peace, and I can stop trying to avoid it.
I think when parts of our lives don’t seem to make sense together, all we want to do is summon our superhuman strength and make everything align correctly, even if that means un-trusting the Lord’s faithfulness and taking back our promise we made to follow wherever He leads. Been there. Done that. But what if our feeble attempt to cross the river alone will only leave us thinking we’re drowning in the current that is actually His answer to our prayers?
The biggest thing the Lord has walked me through over and over and over this last year is trusting the promises He made in the past, even if they no longer make sense. On the days where all I wanted to do was move to where my sister was, I trusted that the community in discipleship school would bring the growth and freedom He had promised it would when I applied; it surpassed my expectations, and I would have buried myself in my own sorrow if it weren’t for those people and that place. When I couldn’t imagine continuing this season without them at the end of the semester, I trusted that I would go home to see the fruit of the Lord’s promise to redefine love for my family; I not only saw fruit, but also more roots and new trees. Now as I prepare to step into India, I can’t help but fear what I’m leaving behind and doubt that it was actually His voice telling me to go. But through it all, I will trust that what He promised before is still secure, no matter what the current circumstances look like. Through it all, I will remember His faithfulness.
