7 days in paradise.
Snorkeling in the crystal clear, shockingly blue, tropical waters off the coast. Feasting on sugar-sweet fruits and other delightful island fare. Basking in the warm sun and drinking in the most vibrant colors on earth.
I had my own plans for this trip. What I wanted. What I expected. The things I was going to see and feel and taste and touch that were going to make me happy. And don't get me wrong – Maui was beautiful and lush and relaxing and incredible! But what I wasn't expecting was the discontent and frustration that I felt in certain quiet moments.
I should have been warned that God was up to something when the first morning, I opened to 2 Corinthians 1 and read about suffering. Or perhaps when God began convicting me of my own arrogance and the need for more humility and a teachable spirit in my life. Or when the pastor at a local church preached on the exact verses I had just read in 2 Corinthians…
But no! Somehow in the excitement and busyness and fragrant tropical breeze, I forgot that my joy has never been found in the weather or exhilerating sunrises or the excitement of boogie boards and snorkeling escapades. And in forgetting where my true joy is and who I am in Christ, I began to see who I am in myself and it left a very bad taste in my mouth.
Not something I wanted to see. Not something that made me happy at all.
The love I have in myself runs dry in seconds, and the joy I find in external pleasures is shallow and unsatisfying. Even the love of my family is not enough. I cannot love them back the way I want to. I run out of patience and contentment so quickly. I give in to my flesh before I can hardly put up a fight.
The last morning I came before the Lord with a broken heart.
Father, who am I? I know who I am when I'm with my friends and I understand my role and I feel needed and loved. Or when certain people come to mind and I remember their love and affirmation. Or when I think of all that I've done and experienced and am going to do in the future. Then I know who I am!
Or at least I think I do. I thought I did. But who do You say that I am? Cuz that is what matters! When every person on earth is removed from my life, my sight, my thoughts; when everything they say and every way I've touched their lives and they've touched mine is gone … who am I then? Am I truly content to simply be YOURS? Not to work and earn, not to strive, not to prove my worth, for I can't. But to receive from Your hand, to hear Your voice, to be WITH YOU. Will that be my ultimate happiness? Will I rest in Your arms long enough to discover that I need nothing else? It is a place of weakness, brokenness, humility, that becomes the place of most intense joy, most profound intimacy, and the deepest sense of belonging in the world!
The reminder and assurance of His love during that quiet moment left my heart thousands of miles higher than the sunrise from the summit of Haleakala.
