A storm blew in the other night. Lightening flashed, and thunder echoed throughout the valley. Truth be told, a storm had already been brewing in my heart and mind before this one came along. I tried to ignore it, but the the clanging, buffeting tempest would have itself known.
When a storm catches you unaware, the only thing you can do is seek shelter until it abates. You find a dry place, and you wait. Because you know the stormy night will pass, and dawn will spread her glorious arms. She will walk along the horizon, embracing all with her warm glow.
This is where I’ve been this past week. Watching the storm in my heart rage. Waiting for dawn to bathe me in soft morning light. And she has. God set her in motion from the beginning of time, and she found me waiting, watching, knowing.
God is so patient with me. Oh how I must drive him crazy running ahead of him, doing things my own way, in my own time. So it’s been with this blog. Life hit hard, and I lost my writing voice. Until two months ago. I felt God’s gentle nudging. I heard his quiet whisper across my heart. Write for me. Write your pain. Write my grace.
In faith, I began to write. His words, my pain, his grace – pouring through me. I found my voice had changed. Trauma morphed it into a new, more mature, less innocent voice. A voice laced with pain. A voice in awe of grace and mercy, and a Savior who loves unconditionally.
I allowed myself to get distracted by ‘good’ ideas. But they weren’t ‘God’ ideas. I forgot that like me, this blog is a work in progress. Clay in the potter’s hands. And like my voice, this blog will morph into what God has intended it to be. Things will come, and things will fall away as I seek his will for my writing, for this blog, for my life – for me. In everything.
Yesterday, a letting go happened. This morning, more letting go. I’m purging self, and drawing deeper into him. I want to be filled by him. And overflow onto my husband, my children, and whoever God brings here. To my home – both on and off the internet. So much seemingly important things distract from that which truly matters. But I cannot allow it. As it begins to turn my head, I must rail against it, and say no. Only you, God. Only you.
As I sat resting in him, in my decision to let go, my children called for me to come quick. A rainbow straight overhead circled the sun. I’ve never seen or heard of such a thing. A wonderfully bright and sun drenched day, and a rainbow surrounding the sun. And when I looked at this photo closer, it had another ring right around the opening in the clouds. Like a double rainbow.
And like the long standing promises of old, I know he will remain faithful. Faithful to let the consequences come swiftly, followed by his grace and outpouring of love. As I rest in the shelter of his arms, I smile. He never stopped pursuing me. How can I not pursue him?
41. a fresh new week.
42. rainbows circling the sun.
43. freedom from my own agenda.
44. once again embracing the One who knows best.
45. my quirky, crazy, wonderful family.
Update: You would not believe the incredible peace I’ve had since I wrote this post last night. Letting go, and giving it all to God is freeing. Why do we strive on our own? He waits for us to give up control, to experience his rest, and yet we strive in our own way, our own time, our own pursuits. So foolish.
I want to encourage you today, right now. If you are struggling with giving something up to him, let go. Let him fill you with his peace, his joy, his sense of wonder. He will delight your soul, lift your spirit, and you will soar with him, for him, in him.