“Trust the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own understanding.” Proverb 3:5
I have not written for four days; two days were set aside deliberately to honor my family during the Christmas holiday, each day covered with prayer, and full of gratitude, helping hands, and the joy of new family members, and fresh traditions, being honored along side the old. It was the next two days that took me by surprise, with a need for sleep that saw my pillow getting more of my day than any more productive activity, and then in the midst of my exhaustion, a hope was dashed, and I found myself crashing into the wall of my own expectations, wrestling again with my own understanding.
In the fifteen years since the loss of my husband and son, God has taken me on a journey to the Land of Trust. So frequently, I found myself bolting, afraid that the destination required too difficult of a journey. I was not only terrified, but hopping mad that He kept asking me to go there. What would it be like in that far-off place? Would I find peace, and joy, and provision, or would He again ask me to let go of that which I counted most precious? How could I know? If I could only understand, than surely I could trust.
My own understanding is a formidable opponent, and stepping into the ring with her should certainly not be taken lightly. She is underhanded; as I try to look to the truth, she throws the past in my face attempting to blind me so that I can not fight. When I am on the mat for a minute, she is sure to kick me with a fresh reminder of all the ways that I have been let down. When my head is spinning from her last blow, she confuses the situation further to ensure that I can see no way that I can survive another blow. Her goal is to buffet me into the clear understanding that all is lost, and there is no way out. She simply can not be trusted, and yet, here I am again, caught in a wrestling match, trying to pry her hands from my ears so I can hear His sweet voice whisper, “Trust Me.”
I am still afraid. Yes, I still have those days. But I will not run from Him, I will listen, again, and again, even when my own understanding cries out that it is hopeless, until His voice is the only one I hear.
How tempting it is still, to run…but where O, Savior would I go. I am down Lord. I am afraid. But You have promised to never forsake me, and so, in your strength, I will clap my hand over the mouth of My Own Understanding, as I seek to hear your voice. I need you desperately…forgive me of my fearful and obstinate nature. I am yours.
Your Desperate Beloved
To my Dear Readers,
Having completed less than ten percent of this project, the event of missing four consecutive days almost convinced me that I would not be able to complete a total of 365 days of prayer and writing. The crashing of my computer two weeks in has caused great difficulty, and of course, daily life has thrown a few curve balls, as it does for all of us. I am determined to follow through with this discipline, with the hope that it will honor God. If I stumble, I trust that He will pick me up and give me the skill and strength to continue.