It’s quite sunny outside but the feeling is not mutual.
I am exhausted as I sit on the steps enjoying a rare moment of solitude. The breeze is nice too; it’s been a heavy heat all morning.
Don’t get me wrong, I like people and I love the people that make up my team. But living in such close community like we are doing is something totally new to me. Balancing ministry, team time, and rest have been a challenge for me thus far.
We have been so busy recently I haven’t had time to sit down and take an honest look at how I am doing. So it came as a surprise today when I sat down and realized I was exhausted. Physically I was a little tired but I’ve certainly been worse off. But emotionally and spiritually I am drained.
Drained and discouraged.
So here I find myself as I sit on the steps outside one of our two shacks. Drained, discouraged, and surprised at both of those things.
How could I get to this point without realizing it? How can I get back to “normal”? And then came a thought born from despair and self-reliance. A thought lacking faith, lacking hope, and lacking perspective. But still a thought I was entertaining.
How can I do this for another 10 months?
But God loves us too much to leave us alone with those thoughts. It was in that moment of despair, of hopelessness, when God began to comfort me.
He told me to climb the tree on our property.
So I did.
I climbed up, among the branches and leaves, until I got to a point where I didn’t think the tree would hold me if I were to go higher and I looked out, expecting to have an overlook of the city. To look out and see the buildings, the people, the roads, and everything else. To see how it all connected.
But I couldn’t see anything except the leaves right in front of me. I was a little disappointed.
“Why did you bring me up here God? I can’t see anything.”
No you can’t. Is that a problem?
“Well I was hoping to see everything. To see how it all connects to make the whole picture of La Carpio.”
And you are frustrated because you can’t see it from where you are?
“Well yeah, kind of.”
But you know it is still there even when you cannot see it right? The buildings, the people, the roads; they are all there still.
“Yeah, I know.”
You are also frustrated because you can’t see the whole picture of the next 10 months of your life, aren’t you? And beyond as well? But the people, the places, the connections; they are all still there. Even though you cannot see them.
Do you trust me with your future?
I shut up for a second.
Finally.
I realized I was still trying, futilely, to hold on to control of my future instead of just turning it over and trusting God to take care of it.
As I continued to stand there I noticed I was able to see glimpses of the city as the wind blew and the leaves shifted.
But take heart! I have not left you totally blind. Just as the wind gives you glimpses of the city, so my Spirit within you can give you glimpses of what is to come. You only have to listen.
I stood for a moment longer then, humbled, I began to descend the tree. When I got to the bottom I looked out and saw an ominous looking wall of clouds.
“God?”
Yes?
“Will there be storms ahead?”
I could swear I almost sensed Him smiling.
Yes there will be storms. But do not worry about them. Storms are an opportunity for you to press deeper into me. To find refuge in me. Storms are uncomfortable when you are in the middle of them and sometimes it seems as though they will never end. But they will. Storms always end. And when they are over you will have a choice. You can be bitter and resentful because the storm came and made you uncomfortable.
Or.
You can be grateful for an opportunity to press deeper into me. You can be refreshed, even as the rain refreshes you now in La Carpio.
It was then when I realized the temperature had dropped almost 15 degrees. I was no longer wearing a blanket of hot, heavy air.
I had also shed my despair, and my hopelessness and replaced them with hope, faith, and the love a father, The Father, has for His son.
It is dark and cloudy in the sky but that’s ok.
The feeling is not mutual.
