I’m floundering. It’s month seven and, it’s month seven.
I’m finding myself digging a little bit deeper into a pit.
I’m finding myself saying, “I just don’t know”, more than I’m comfortable with.
I’m finding myself rubbing my sharp points against people’s soft places and in turn feeling their sharp points in those vulnerable soft places in my heart.
I’m finding myself talking about plane tickets home.
I’m finding myself in month seven.
I found myself in a place where I was focused more on my current place on this earth, by my problems, by the fact that it seemed like God wasn’t answering immediately (or even somewhat promptly). And I started to wobble. Now, it was just a little at first; an offhand comment here, a sassy retort there; however slowly but surely Pissy Polly arrived as the newest member of Team En Garde.
After realizing I had handed over the keys to Pissy Polly and we had to start to have residency conversations. Would she be allowed to stay? How did she even get so ingrained in me? How did God feel about her?
Then, it clicked. And it stopped my feet right in their tracks. Pissy Polly, had come out in full force because I was so uncomfortable. Month seven is the point where The World Race has lost its sparkle.
Month seven is the point where not knowing what you’re buying at the grocery store has stopped being an adventure and is now just another potential for failure to add to the list. (11 Euros spent on two squash JJ?)
Month seven is the point where the coverings you’ve so successfully covered your problems with are completely threadbare and basically see-through.
Month seven is the point where “missionary life” isn’t as instagramable anymore. Even the coolest filter becomes lackluster after seven months.
Month seven is the point where you’re tired of fundraising.
Month seven is when you’re pack seems to become heavier, and you have to walk farther than you had the entire race.
Month seven is the point where it’s easier to just throw up your hands in the air and say, “I DO NOT care anymore”, than mustering up the remnant of grace left at the bottom of the barrel.
Month seven is the point where your need for God far surpasses any amount of pride left in your meek frame.
As I was talking to someone and introducing them to Pissy Polly and after they let pent up, pushed down and repressed thoughts funnel out through my mouth like Niagara Falls, they asked me, “Well what has God promised you?”
What? After all that you ask me what God has promised me?
My inner perfect Christian immediately had 20 things I wanted to spit out. I knew the “right” answers, but did I? Could I answer that question from my heart? I fumbled around for a couple minutes and I realized not only did I not know what the Lord had promised me specifically, I was terrified to answer wrong. I was petrified by the thought that I would say something and be laughed at.
God promised salvation to all who believe in His Son (Romans 1:16–17). There is no greater blessing than the free gift of God’s salvation.
God promised all things will work out for good for His children (Romans 8:28). This is the broader picture that keeps us from being dismayed by present circumstances.
God promised comfort in our trials (2 Corinthians 1:3–4). He has a plan, and one day we will be able to share the comfort we receive.
God promised to finish the work He started in us (Philippians 1:6). God does nothing in half measures. He started the work in us, and He will be sure to complete it.
God promised peace when we pray (Philippians 4:6–7). His peace is protection. It will “guard your hearts and your minds in Christ.”
Jesus promised rest (Matthew 11:28–30). Burdens are lifted at Calvary.
Jesus promised abundant life to those who follow Him (John 10:10). Following Jesus brings us more spiritual fulfillment than we could have anticipated. We leave boring behind.
Jesus promised He will return for us (John 14:2–3). From then on, we will be with Him always.
As Christians we’re one of the only religion groups who has the ability to answer the toughest question with, “I don’t know but I still know God is good.” Why can we say that? We can say that because God not only promises that we will encounter trouble on earth, but he promises he is bigger and has the victory because of Jesus.
It’s easier for me to be Pissy Polly than it is for me to stand up as Allison, full and righteous daughter of the most high king. It’s easier because Pissy Polly doesn’t require any risk. It’s no surprise when people don’t love her, it’s no shock when life doesn’t turn out ideally. Pissy Polly becomes a scape goat, she becomes a justification for everything unexplainable.
So, Pissy Polly, I’m sorry but you’re going to have to leave.
God didn’t promise Moses that he would deliver the Israelites from Egypt after the first… or second… or third… or fourth… or fifth… or sixth… or seventh… or eighth… or ninth?
Did God promise that the Israelites would get to the promise land after the day? A week? A month? A year?
As much as it pains my heart to admit, no. No he didn’t. But God was faithful to his promise.
