The wind is blowing so hard that it whips my face. How is it possible sand manages to find its way into my eyes, which are squeezed shut most of the time?? When I dare to open them, I spin around in circles, frantically looking for help.
But help will not come.
In the brief moments of sight, all I can see is the horrifying expanse of desert. No water. No food. No humans. No comfort.
I’ve heard they call this a wilderness.
And that’s how this season is supposed to be. I know which direction I’m headed, which is helpful, but beyond that, nothing.
He intends for it to be that way. A season in the desert, without comfort.
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The only way out is through.
Comfort will not be part of this season.
A harvest is, indeed, coming.
These are things I know to be true about this season. Try as I might, there simply is no other option. To get to the other side, the side full of celebration and harvest and joy, I have to submit to the process of being in the desert, with tears and uncertainty. How fitting that my sanctuary is water and my wilderness would be the desert.
I had a conversation with our squad mentor, Kate, and was asking her if she had resources or ideas with this. Without coming right out and saying there was no other option (it was kind of her to let me come to the conclusion on my own), she reminded me that it was a beautiful thing for me to be in this season. Her statement about it being a wonderful gift that the Lord is bringing me into such dependence on Him that I cannot live a single day without Him helped put things in perspective. So true. I literally cannot begin a day without spending time with Him.
Dependence is beautiful, but it also is one of those “it hurts so good” seasons. Intellectually, it’s not difficult to rationalize that good things will come with perseverance, but on a heart level, the fight and wrestle against discouragement is a reality.
In all of this processing and time with Him, if I’m honest, I’ve been complaining and walking in some self-pity. He firmly but gently asked, “Why are you rejecting my gift of refinement?”
Ouch.
Since then, the peace has come. No, comfort will not be part of this season, but peace will because I know this refinement is the result of Him caring enough about me to help me become more like His son. Right now, that means working on the fruit of the Spirit, faithfulness. I think we so often focus on love, joy, and peace, that some of the other fruits get forgotten. So many stories from the Bible have to do with people demonstrating such high levels of faith. Hebrews even has a Faith Hall of Fame. I’ve wondered how those people walked with such faith because I find myself to be lacking so frequently. Recently, I’ve found encouragement in the idea that faithfulness is a fruit of the Spirit, which means if I’m walking with Him, a product of that intimacy will be faith. What a relief! He helps provide the faithfulness.
I’ll submit to the process because He’s made it clear that the only way out is through. Gather some faithfulness and fire up.
