A few weeks ago I published a post over at (in)courage talking about not talking about your junk while God’s still working on you. In that post, I shared about the value of keeping your business between you and God while it’s still in progress—l used the analogy of not inviting the entire waiting room into your therapy session, because really, who would do that?
And since then, (before then, really), I’ve been in such a place, a waiting, refining place, and while Ive wanted to process it here, I have held back for the sake of following my own advice and being the person I say that I am. I have some hard junk staring me down these days, and no, in the grand scheme of life, these struggles are not catastrophic by any stretch. But pain is relative, and while my stuff doesn’t compare to world hunger, sex trafficking or any other legit atrocity, in my small world, the wrestlings are still hard, and still painful, in their own right.
If you’ve ever carried a dream too big for you to handle, you know what I’m talking about. If you’ve ever wanted something while simultaneously not wanting it, for fear that you will mismanage it, then you know what I’m talking about. If you’ve ever thought you heard God so clearly, only to find yourself wandering around seemingly lost, questioning the very thing you were so sure you heard, then, you know what I’m talking about. If you’ve ever had your heart broken by the crushing weight of someone’s well-meaning words, then you know what I’m talking about. If you’ve ever worn your rose-tinted glasses too long in the dark, without taking them off to survey the reality of your environment, then you know what I’m talking about…being in process with Jesus can feel a little light Fight Club.
We’re not supposed to talk about Fight Club. It’s the cardinal rule, man. What happens in the (prayer) closet, stays in the (prayer) closet. I’m in the closet with Jesus these days and as much as I want out, as much as I keep thinking that surely, we’re wrapping this session up, He’s standing in front of the door.
He is the door. He’s not exactly saying it, but His posture says, “you’re not going out, except through me.”
He is the Way. The only Way. And the Way, is standing in my way (Thank God).
Of course, I am no dummy. I have been singed enough times by the Refiner’s fire to know that though it hurts so good, (“sometimes love don’t feel like it should”) I don’t actually want what I think I want. I know that to ask Him to step aside, is suicide. It’s just that, I forgot how hard it can be to step out in faith. I forgot how hard hope really is. I forgot how hard it is to wait.
So I’m still here, sitting in the ashes looking for answers to questions that compound day after day. Swimming at the pool with my kids, sitting in the driveway reading books while they pop-wheelies and hop curbs on their bikes. I’m here, having afternoon chats with my neighbors and early morning coffee with friends, trading words on the internet for the ones penned quietly in my journal. And so it must be. For now.
Where are you these days? if you can talk about it, leave me a word or two in the comments that describes your season. Can’t talk about it? That’s ok. I understand. I do. Just stay put, eh? Let it unfold in it’s season. You can’t hurry the Holy.
PS: I’m telling you this now, because in telling you this, I will also be held accountable (wink)–on Monday (8/8), I’m giving away a copy of the new book, Soul Bare. It’s a crazy-beautiful book, I can’t wait to share it with you!