Thursday, October 29, 2015

welcoming the wilderness

The future. I live for it. I can't help it: my mind constantly wonders to what could be. Life ten years from now. Five years from now. Life in our first home. Life with three kids. Dreaming is one of my favorite past times.

Yet this fall I've come to realize that dreaming can be a harmful habit for me. I spend so much of my time infatuated with the future that I miss the present. I live dreaming instead of awake. The life I have escapes me and the life I could have isn't within reach.

Anyone else in the same boat?

Since having kids, I feel as though I've been wandering the wilderness, passing by the same dusty rock time and time again. Just recently, I rushed past that dusty rock like I normally do, and it hit me.

What I was doing here, in the wilderness. How long I would stay here, in the wilderness. What I could learn here, in the wilderness. The purpose for this wilderness.

It was both heart-throbbing and heart-wrenching.

"The whole commandment that I command you today you shall be careful to do," Moses wrote in Deuteronomy 8:1, "that you might live and multiply, and go in and posses the land that the Lord swore to give to your fathers." Thus begins the passage that has ushered me into this new awareness of my wilderness journey.

All summer long I've been writing out this passage to commit it to memory. And while it's finally committed to memory, I've yet to pull it apart and soak in the truth God wants me to hear. There's something about humility, faith, trust, and good to be had.

If the Word has the power to redeem (Rom. 1:16) yet I know this passage by heart and am still stuck here on square one, then I have ears that don't hear (Mk. 8:14-21). Eyes that don't see. A heart that's hardened against the truth.

"Search me, God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (Ps. 139:23-24).