This morning I got lost.
In an attempt to get back into an exercise routine, I went for a morning run along the moat that surrounds the city of Chiang Mai.
What was meant to be a 30 minute outing turned into an hour-long accidental city tour.
The odd thing about my getting lost is the route was just one straight shot down and back the road I live on. It was seemingly dummy-proof, but there I was: lost and confused as to how I got there with an offline map as my only hope.
Forty minutes after realizing my hiccup, I was relieved to be home, though a little annoyed at myself for getting off such an easy track.
This is when I realized something: Maybe I was meant to get lost. Maybe God was taking me through Chiang Mai so he could change my heart.
You see, this has very much been a season of wilderness. I’ve not known where to go next, and somehow, I’ve found myself farther from where I ever hoped to be.
On this race, I’ve been a part of an incredible community of disciples who hunger and thirst for the Kingdom of God. I’ve received the gift of doing life with people who are real and raw, but don’t settle for less than what Jesus asks of us. This community has sharpened me, shown me my true self, and spurred me on to be the woman God intends me to be. It’s been a beautiful part of my race, but wow is it hard at times.
Living in community means having to admit your lack of power constantly. I’m only in control of me – my actions and reactions – and living in World Race community has highlighted that truth more than most anything I’ve experienced in life thus far.
It’s been hard to accept the things I can’t change about people, especially when those things directly affect me.
I know we’re the Church and all, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t dysfunction and calamity that creeps in. Community, Christian or otherwise, is messy because humanity is messy.
In a perfect world, we would all be perfect reflections of Christ just because we’ve chosen to follow him, but we know this isn’t reality. This is the ultimate goal, and as we lay at Jesus’ feet, we grow closer to living under his example. We all fall short of the glory of God, and whether we like it or not, those shortcomings affect the people around us.
So I’ll just say it plainly. Community has been a major challenge over the last three months. It’s been a wilderness marked by confusion and grief and fear.
I’ve tried to course-correct, but I always find myself defeated at my attempts to change what is beyond my control. I have released my circumstances to God only to take them back countless times.
I’ve been desperate and dumbfounded, baffled and broken, weary and woeful. I’ve been lost.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve cried out to God, asking him to take the hard circumstances away from me. In the deep woods, my only hope was changed circumstances.
Through this long trial, I’ve grown weary. Truthfully, all I’ve wanted is to be removed from the situation completely. That would fix this, I thought. Or at least, it would give me some relief.
I was essentially speaking the first half of Luke 22:42:
“Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me.”
But in that desperate cry, I missed something crucial. I missed the rest of the verse. Jesus didn’t just ask for the cup to be removed. He followed with this:
“Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.”
When I was wandering those city streets, lost and confused, God spoke to me so clearly. He revealed that as hard as it may be, my comfort is less important to him than my heart transformation. He would never take me through something so challenging if it didn’t serve a higher purpose.
Rather than asking for changed circumstances, I know I need to ask for his will to be done.
This is what I know about God in the hard times:
He sees beyond my limited view.
He cares for me deeply.
He is a good father, and he allows hardships because they discipline me.
He is sovereign.
He has victory over evil, and he will defeat any manifestation of evil thrown at me.
His love is NEVER. FAILING.
These truths don’t make this season any less painful, but they remind me who God is. They give me hope that this is not in vain even if I can’t see its purpose right now.
Maybe you’ve found yourself a little lost, too. Maybe you’re walking through some mud you don’t necessarily deserve. I want to encourage you in this: God sees your pain and he wouldn’t allow you to go through this if it didn’t offer a new level of closeness with him.
Choose in to whatever it is. Seek after God and ask him where he is in your current situation. Pray for his will, not yours, to be done.
My prayer is for each of us to be set free from our circumstances. To keep our peace even in the most painstaking times. Maybe the Lord isn’t taking us through the wilderness to show us he can take us out right away. Perhaps he is allowing this so he can change our hearts first.
