It has rained quite a bit down here in New Zealand and while it is a lovely wake-up call in the early hours, I have frequently found myself wet due to my tent’s incompetent fly. I finally have all of my gear dried out, but the analogy of being washed away like my tent, pack, and sleeping bag has stuck with me.
I have been processing a lot of different internal and spiritual conflicts and issues these last three weeks and little by little, it seems as though God is washing away my life’s patterns and routines and maybe…just maybe…my identity. Which I am not ready for, but like the rain, I don’t have any control of.
