Do you ever feel like you just need to pause? I do.
I get so caught up – in the seeking, the longing for, the chasing of a high – that I fail to notice my feet on the pavement.
In this season of full-speed-ahead preparation for 11 months away on mission, I often find my mind far off in the future. It’s partly because I’m so dang excited for what’s to come, but another part of me just doesn’t want to be here right now. I hate to sound negative, but I vowed to be vulnerable and raw along this entire journey, and that’s what I’ll do.
I’ve been here enough times to know when I’m looking for a way out; a way to run away without running away. When life is challenging, I jump to fantasizing about life on the Race when I’ll be all in for God, all the time. No more distractions of regular life. No more half here, half there. I always cling to the best parts, forsaking the challenges that are bound to come, many of which will look the same as what I’m facing today: the dirt within me.
But of course, the journey makes the destination worthwhile.
I’ve been challenged a lot lately with the need to look inward at my gaps and faults. Even though all of me wants to run the other direction when pain rears its ugly head, I can’t live in denial like I once did. I must face the ugliness.
Good thing Jesus is pretty decent at turning those ugly, dirty parts of us into beautiful, spotless additions to His masterpiece.
Times like these call me to pause.
Nothing brings me back to faith in His promises than remembering all the ways He has delivered them so far.
I pulled out a stack of journals that I’ve managed to fill over the past two years. These pages reveal such raw heartbreak and desperation. Diving back in brought tears to my eyes immediately.
Suddenly I was reliving the pure hell I was living in right before I stopped running and let God in.
“Here I am at close to two in the morning, wondering whether I even deserve to be happy. My entire life is falling apart and I’m trying to hold it together and move forward.”
May 29, 2015
I was completely and utterly broken, and I could no longer deny my demons. Completely owned by addiction, a crippling eating disorder, and an honest wish to not wake up the next day, I can tell you I never knew true hopelessness until that time.
But then there’s grace.
I suffered through the pages as if I was reading about some other person’s life. The story unfolded and redemption began to cover devastation. Healing happened. That girl was set free by True Love. I haven’t been the same since.
I need to pause when I want to run away from the dirt that still remains. Pain scares me, but I’ve seen how beautiful the garden is once the weeds are pulled out.
Before I let Jesus into my heart, I thought there was absolutely nothing that could help me. Today, when I feel impatient in the waiting, I can look back at all that He has done and all that he’s doing.
When I come down from the fantasy of the future, I realize that the troubles of today are nothing compared to what they were when I was navigating through life without Jesus.
I didn’t see the beauty forming out of ashes back then, but I can see it now.
It looks like using those desperate moments to relate to someone who’s been there.
It looks like part of my beautiful story that isn’t yet finished.
It looks like the fruit of surrendering outcomes into His loving hands.
It looks like trusting that He will do what He says He will.
It looks like a new degree of freedom.
It looks like grace.
I like the way it looks from here. Thank God I chose to pause.
With love,
McKenzie
