'‘Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.’ - Thomas Edison
Patient and long suffering. God is not worried when things dies off and go bare.
But I am. Too many winters in a row and the cold settles deep in my chest.
I’ll never stop being in awe when I plant and see nothing for months in the cold, and then somehow growth knows it’s time to spring to life.
My heart looks like a burned out forest.
The lasting Christian life is built quietly. Stone upon stone. Seed up seed. Sometimes years and years of quiet.
Roots go deeper in the winter. Searching for water.
I’ve always faced adversity with a fight. It helps us grow. It forces maturity. Lessons are learned. Spiritual muscles are gained.
But not this time.
I am raw with no strength left in me. Anything that remains is purely because God wills it. Beyond that I have no field.
God’s work in our lives is not a linear line. Why do so many use the term ‘journey’ to describe their walk with God?
John Bunyon’s The Pilgrims Progress is not a linear climb of victory. It is an allegory of pitfalls, near death, fighting demons, crossing obstacles all the while experiencing little moments of hope and peace and joy.
Jesus uses parables of farmers, seeds, vineyards, land owners, housekeepers.
The way of Jesus involves the mundane.
It is inhale exhale.
It is life and then death and life again. It is budding green in the ashen forest and fruit and harvest.
It is the death of dreams with quiet blankets of snow hiding all the hope that once sung our spirits high.
God is a farmer.
He looks in the many faces of doubters, loud mouths, trouble makers, diseased, outcasts, dying and sees bounty.
A harvest.
God saw Laban’s injustice toward Jacob. And through all the spotted, unwanted sheep, brought abundance to Jacob’s house.
The godless see victory as linear path to wealth and fame and ease. Climbing over the weak to get there.
The Godly put on overalls and serve with their farmer-harvest-seeing-Savior.
Blessed is the underdog whose strength is the Lord.
Blessed are you when there’s no room at the inn. When your grandest moments happen in a stable.
No one to clap. No one to see. But God sees.
I continue on this journey.
The frosty winter settles into my bones. Heavy is the grief.
So. Much. Loss. Living in slow motion.
But the roots of my faith still search for water.
They grow in the darkness. My night-faith becomes stronger.
God is near and also far. A quiet whisper and a thunder in the distance.
I think He will find me again.
My soul cannot rest until He finds me again.
“Behold I stand at the door and knock…”
I await the sound.
Katie many years ago sitting next to my father in hospice , I found this book called "God works the night shift"
Your journey has brought back to my heart and mind the dark cold winters of the soul where everything was shaken and taken and trust in God's goodness was very weak.
God works the night shift in the quiet no distractions when pain cannot be set aside in a flurry of busyness.
It's when you are holding the hand of your father trying to stay awake because you want the last moments before he leaves this earth..
Katie God is working the night shift in heart soul and He is waiting and working behind the shadows of cold dark winter of your soul.. to bring the warmth of spring it will be different but deeper ..the night will soon be over 😀
"But not this time."
Process well articulated, friend.
Have you read The Critical Journey by Janet O. Hagberg? Worth looking into in the middle of the respective deserts we are in.
Thanks for sharing, Katie. <3