So I had a thing happen this morning. A hurtful thing. A stinging thing. A thing that felt like my hand being slapped after reaching out.
That thing sent into motion a flurry of tears and heartbreak and wondering why I even try to reach.
My morning was quickly turning into mourning.
But I only had half of the story. My half. There was nothing untrue about the half I had, but it was only a partial picture, not the whole.
I had put up a video onto a church facebook page. One of me reading out loud the last blog I had posted. I had read those words out loud in our women's book study group earlier that night and had been asked to share it there.
When I woke up in the morning facebook told me that I had activity on that post. When I went to see what was there that post was gone. As was the post I had made the week before.
I tried to shrug it off. I am new to this church and this page, maybe I had overstepped a line I didn't know was there, but the longer I sat with it the more painful it felt.
The old tapes started to play you know the ones, the mean voiced ones that never lead anywhere good......... "I told you not to share!" "Just who do you think you are anyways?" "You aren't wanted!"
I messaged a friend. She said, "ASK WHY! Get the whole story!"
So after sitting in my sadness a little longer I did. And then I waited and I fretted and cried some more.
Then the answer came. A very reasonable answer. One that had absolutely nothing to do with me and nothing to do with what I shared other than that page was not intended for that purpose and at the last update some of the settings accidentally were changed. It was just a misunderstanding and nothing personal.
My brain accepted this news right off, but it took my heart a little longer to catch up.
And it made me wonder how much of my life is like this. I react to only the small part of the picture that I know. It won't be until I can see the whole picture that I fully will understand it.
And how often is God saying, "I have the whole story! Ask me!" and I choose to mourn over just the small bit of the picture that I can see. My brain is accepting this quite well, but my heart is taking a little longer to catch up.
Sunday, March 12, 2017
The Hard Road
It Is Time To Go
I can see Him standing there in my mind’s eye. Arm outstretched, the wounds left by His earthly life still visible.
“Baby, it is time to go.” He informs me.
“I don’t want to.” I say, shaking my head and letting my fear speak. The road He is standing on is a hard one. It isn’t going to be an easy walk and I fear that I won’t make it through the difficult spaces. It is dark and all I can see is what is right before me, the rest is pitch black with only a promise that daylight will meet us at the end of it. Until then only where we are standing will be illuminated.
He looks down at the ground for a moment before He looks me in the eyes, His hand still reaching for me. I can see the water welling up around His deep brown eyes that search me.
“Baby, you know I walked a hard road once, too. I would never ask you to go where I haven’t already been. Take ahold of my hand. I will lead the way and when the darkness before you gets too overwhelming just look up at Me.”
I begin to cry.
“But that road, it scares me. Can’t we go another way? Can’t we go around it to get to the light? I have worked very hard to forget what happened on that road. I want to leave it behind me, not walk back through it.”
He reaches up and wipes away my tears, catching them with the sleeve of His garment.
“No, Baby, the only way to get to the light at the end is to go back down the road that brought you to here.”
“But you told me to leave the old way behind, not to walk back through it. I don’t understand why you are asking me to travel such a difficult road. Especially when everyone else says to leave it in the past.”
He cups my chin and stoops down to meet me face to face.
“You and they have mis-understood. I said for you to leave all of the things that you picked up along this road behind. I need you to set down your mortar and your bricks, the ones that you have gathered up to build all of your walls. Those need to stay here. And all that luggage that you have acquired along the way filled with the things you clothe yourself in such as despair, doubt, hurt, anger, and fear. Those are the things that we will shed together as we walk, so that I can clothe you in strength , trust, joy, and courage. If we bypass this road you will bring all of that with you and you will never make it to the path that is meant for you.”
I sniffle and let His words sink in.
“I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit.” I grumble with a loud sniff.
He chuckles as he stands back up.
“No, I don’t expect that you do, but when we come to the end of this road and you start on your new path you will be glad that you walked this hard road with me. I promise.”
“My stomach is shaking.” I say as I grab His hand.
“I know, Baby. I know.”
I hear Him humming softly the song He has often sung over me as we take the first steps. Though hesitant I squeeze His hand and lean into His strong yet gentle arm and hum along with Him.