“A boy was leading his sister up a mountain path and the way was not easy. ‘Why, this isn’t a path at all,’ the little girl complained. ‘It’s all rocky and bumpy.’ And her brother replied, ‘Sure, the bumps are what you climb on.’”
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A couple of weeks ago God gave me a vision for my life. All I could see was red: pain, hurt, anger, and blood pouring out of me. Yet when I took a step back, I saw that the red drop was actually part of a red leaf falling to the ground from a tree losing its leaves in fall. And when I took another step back, I saw that the tree was a painting and that God’s hand was guiding every brushstroke.
God told me that my life is full of hurt and pain right now, but it is a tree in fall losing its leaves. He told me the tree was going to die soon, and that more pain was coming, but that after the tree died it would bloom again in the springtime. I would see new life, but that new life would be resurrected after a death.
Not exactly a comforting vision when you think about it. And yet I just continued blindly along, somehow hoping for the best and subconsciously believing that the resurrection could come before the death.
Then the tree died. And I cried. And I cried. And I cried. Because I’m so sick of things dying in my life. I’m so sick of wounds that have barely been stitched up being kicked back open again. I feel like I’m always climbing an uphill battle with all these bumps keeping me from summiting the mountain. Once I get over one bump, I’m faced with another one. And then the bumps become stumbling blocks rather than places I can put my feet to climb higher.
The bumps this week have been both highly metaphorical and also extremely literal. I got a terrible virus that I thought was something like a mixture between strep and the flu. And as much as I’d like to say it was just my body that was breaking, that would be a lie. My heart was breaking, too. After all the cracks and bullet holes it had sustained through the years, one more bump finally cracked it in half. For maybe the first time, my heart truly broke. The ever-classic individualist, I was just grateful the sickness was something to blame my pain on and not have to deal with questions from other people.
Well then my hands and my feet broke out in bumps that looked like ant bites and hurt like bee stings, and I couldn’t sleep for hours because every touch to my feet felt like needles being jabbed into my skin. The next day the bumps turned into blisters, and I finally figured out that I have hand mouth foot disease.
The amount of physical and spiritual attacks I have sustained within the first month of the World Race are almost laughable. I probably wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t living it out. And as badly as I am hurting, as much as every muscle in my body, every desire of my heart, and every ounce of logic I have tell me that maybe I should give up, something in me just can’t take the self-pity anymore.
I’m not trying to downplay a broken heart, and I definitely have a lot of grieving to do, but self-pity is a dangerous thing. It takes our eyes off of God and focuses them on us. It makes our problems bigger than the God who can solve them. In all situations, we can choose escape or we can choose fulfillment. Rather than running away from Gethsemane, Christ submitted to the Father’s will. Our salvation is the fulfillment of His perseverance.
I’m not going to lie: with a layover in Fort Lauderdale in two days, everything in me wants to hop on a plane back to Texas and forget the last month happened. But I’ll never forget. I won’t forget the pain, and I’m not sure I want to. Without remembering the pain, how will I appreciate the redemption? If your life is yielded to Christ, it is not a series of accidents, but a series of appointments. You cannot confuse the process with the result. You can’t grow in faith and patience while running away.
Instead of running away, I’m going to run into the arms of my Father. I am going to give thanks in all circumstances and for all circumstances, for I do not believe there is anything that can come against my life that my God cannot turn into something for His glory. It’s not my job to question the process; it’s my job to trust my Savior.
Satan can break my heart, he can break my body, and he can break my spirit, but he will never break my God. The same God who defeated death and the enemy forevermore lives inside of me, and He who is in me is greater than he who is in the world. I am more than a conqueror through Jesus Christ, and I will live in defiance of the schemes of the enemy every day of my life that I am given on this earth, even if it breaks me.
I’m not going anywhere. God has more for me, because I know He has led me here. I’m going to hold my ground, fix my eyes on the author and perfector of my faith, and let Him lead me to a higher ground from which I can see my life more clearly.
I am choosing not to let my bumps become stumbling blocks any longer. My God enables me to walk on the heights; He gives me hinds’ feet on high places. His will is not that these bumps cause me to stumble, but that they enable me to climb higher. My bumps will be my cornerstones. My bumps will enable me to reach the heights. And if I fall a few times along the way, so be it. I’m not going to turn around. I will live the life God has for me.
I know that my God is greater than anything this life has to offer. I know He is a Redeemer, a Warrior King, and that He reigns supremely over every situation in my life. I know that He is trustworthy. I know that He is good beyond a shadow of a doubt.
God is big enough to hold the world in His hands, but He is also small enough to handle the tiny needle that can sew my heart back together again. And when I can’t see His hand in my life, I will trust His heart.
Don’t worry, friends. I’m going to plant that blistered foot right on top of that bump and keep on climbing. The journey is the reward.
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I just wanted to share my heart with you all because I am committed to sharing this journey with you. I hope it encouraged someone out there today.
**The quote in the beginning is from the book I am reading right now, “The Bumps Are What We Climb On” by Warren W. Wiersbe
Also, please pray for my squad’s health. Pray this disease doesn’t spread, as it is highly contagious. And pray that those of us who have it heal quickly. As much as I took up the war cry in this post, I am beyond miserable with blisters all over my body. Thank you for your prayers in advance.
“Why, my soul, are you so downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise Him.” Psalm 42:11
Love,
Tera
