Better Than 1000 Words...
If I could pick one image to describe how this past season has been for me, this would be it.
Cloudy, cold, unclear, and filled with an unbelievable number stop signs.
Not warning signs, mind you, but stop signs; the ones that do nothing but impede progress, even when all logic states that the roads should be passable without hindrances.
These stop signs have come in a variety of forms, from broken down cars, to bad home HVAC units, to simple things like light bulbs or batteries that need replacing.
And because I’ve had so many stop signs over this past year, I’m nearly hitting breaking point. Like, just now I had to replace batteries on our thermostat and I just about took a sledgehammer to it because somehow that would have been much more satisfying than bending pins to make better electrical contact with a AAA…
And so rather than offer a sob-story (believe me, I’ve done plenty of that privately), I’d rather talk about what I’m learning about navigating this whole journey amidst the snow storms and stop signs.
And to be completely honest, I don’t always feel particularly qualified to share my successes in this area. In fact, with each new stop sign I get more and more irritable, to the point where I’m starting to wonder what kind of example I’m setting for my children on how to best handle setbacks and adversity.
But here’s what I do know:
When I hit roadblocks in my journey, after complaining and throwing tantrums, I’ve found it helpful to dwell on the following:
What is happening in my heart during these trials and setbacks?
For me, the answer is escape. I find that deep inside, all I can think of is varying ways to escape the present agony, however big or small, and run away. Whether running away physically, emotionally, or to some form of combined comfort, my heart just wants to take a break, hiding in some form of false comfort, for hopes that the situation will resolve itself.
And it never does, of course. At least not on its own. Resolution requires that I dig in, stay in the present, and buckle down and get the job done.
And that disrupts my worship of comfort, and I really don’t like it when that happens.
After paying attention to what’s going on in my heart, I’ve learned to ask God the question of How should I interpret these events?
Are these warning signs, placed there to get my attention to change course? Are they impediments placed there by some sinister opposition to my life’s calling? Are they punishment for some wrong I’ve committed? Are they something that’s meant to prepare me for a larger task or obstacle that I’ll face later on down the road?
I believe that, although we may not get all the answers to these questions in the moment, at the very minimum they will grant a temporary peace as we wait on God for clarity.
And something else profound popped out at me this morning.
In the book of Acts, right after Saul had changed course from running around killing Christians left and right, to being an ambassador after an encounter with Jesus,
“Things calmed down after that and the church had smooth sailing for a while. All over the country—Judea, Samaria, Galilee—the church grew. They were permeated with a deep sense of reverence for God. The Holy Spirit was with them, strengthening them. They prospered wonderfully.” (Acts 9:31 MSG)
They were permeated with a deep sense of reverence for God.
As I looked at the transformation of our local hills from drought-stricken brown to verdant green this morning, it helped me realize once again that you can’t have beauty and life without some rain. And sometimes that rain comes down in buckets, and for a lot longer than we might like.
But when the clouds clear, and the blue skies and green hills radiate life and wildflowers and beauty, I’m pretty certain that deep down inside, everyone will take a look and in some form or other, be permeated with a deep sense of reverence for God.
And so, stop signs, rain, snow, come what may. I’m waiting faithfully for the day when the sun comes out and true and lasting beauty is revealed…
