Grace falls like light rain drops. The cool soothing drops are gentle and soft; they gather and bead, magnifying life in tiny bubbles. The surface tension causes new perspective in all it reflects. The tension breaks and pools form, smooth and irregular. Like thousands of tears of relief, built up and released. A breath of fresh air, renewal. Life.
Cleansing.
A new start.
Forgiveness for an offense that never existed.
Grace for my lack of perfection, my attitudes, my absence.
I’ve been spiritually wandering the desert. Parched but trekking on hoping to find water; an oasis—even a single drop of relief. I’ve been traveling to this place a long while without meaning to—I never looked at my destination, I just refused to change paths. Eyes closed tightly and fists balled up in defiance—I marched past warning signs, past loving arms and into independence and false wisdom. And I feel the shame for being there…falling into the trap I saw.
But God.
God is good. He loves us even when…before…always. He loves you— and me. Not what we do, or what we don’t do. Just. Us.
So even in the desert seasons, full of defiance and disobedience, shame and disappointment—He comes for us.
(Breathe. Release this shame daughter. It was never yours and it is not how I see you.)
And I know He never left. He is always present. Friend, neither of us have never wandered alone or been without help. We just get so caught up focusing on the obstacles and the problems—how uncomfortable we are and how impossible the situation is. So distracted that we don’t hear His voice or see Him standing right there shielding us.
The obstacle is an illusion; a mirage. So real looking, until we look up to heaven and see with God’s eyes. When we seek to see things with this new vision…we will see the mirage for what it is; a distraction.
Wandering in the heat has caused us to begin to see things that aren’t really important. The illusion of water, the illusion of real monsters. We need to cool down, refresh. We need water–living water to refresh our souls; return to clear thinking.
Our bodies are 60% water. Every system requires water to run. Needs an abundance of water to perform at its best. Water helps keep our spines flexible and our knees cushioned. It regulates our body temperature and organs, protects our brains, transports nutrients and so much more. We can’t live without it. When we are dehydrated our entire system starts to slow down and we begin to feel compromised. The size of our cells shrink when we are dehydrated. They literally dry out.
Water fills us up brings life. We are empty and struggling without it.
Jesus said He is the living water. He brings life to the soul and fills us to overflowing. He renews us from the inside. Whoever drinks the living water…will never thirst.
And if we need 90-120 oz of water a day of water to keep our bodies healthy…how much Jesus do we need? How much of the Holy Spirit?
How shrunken are my spiritual cells?
I am parched and dry…wandering. How much water am I taking in?
In my everyday life I am blessed enough to have water to drink whenever I want to. Yet I am chronically dehydrated. Not because I lack water to drink, but because I lack the discipline to drink it. Or the memory…or I like coffee too much. Yes, it’s discipline.
Imagine wandering and complaining that you are thirsty in the desert…while wearing a backpack full of fresh and cool ice water. Doesn’t seem very smart.
But here I am…carrying Jesus in my heart, seeing the signs of dehydration and spiritual sparsity, and not drinking from the living water.
“Lord where are you? Why can’t I hear you? Why can’t I see you? What did I do wrong?” I cry.
All while holding my hands over my ears and squeezing my eyes shut.
I decided to just wait on the Lord. People do that right? I would pray, and worship, and go to church, and sit and listen, but I wouldn’t try too hard to find God, no striving. I would let go and wait to see Him show up and work.
I worshiped into the silence, Prayed without response, trusted into the open expanse. I lean in, fully expecting to fall on my face, or see the Lord answer.
Nothing happened. I didn’t fall, but I didn’t see the answer either.
I decided to start fasting and get rid of the distraction of food. To use the fast as a focus point. Not to force God to show up, but to quiet my mind and body to listen better.
It got harder.
Friend, often when things get harder it is a sign we are doing something right. The enemy wants nothing more than complacent and ineffective believers. We don’t need to be committing crimes and turning to evil—although I suppose he wouldn’t mind that either. As long as we aren’t furthering the kingdom…its not too bad.
So not only is hardship an indication of forward motion…the tough times should bring us joy because they are creating maturity in us.
Great…
Did you sense my sarcasm? I don’t mean to have an attitude. I am glad he is growing me up. But counting it joy that things are hard and He feels absent and I am lonely? That’s harder.
The desert place got harder, and I heard myself becoming more whiney. I started to sound bitter.
“No. I am NOT going to build resentment, or sound negative all the time. This stops here.” I declared.
I decided I needed a good dose of God. There was an email in my inbox called “Wilderness.”
A course by John and Lisa Bevere. It’s all about what it looks like to walk through the wilderness (a desert?), and how to stay faithful and trust in the Lord at that time.
I clicked the link and followed through, reading descriptions and indicators that the course was a good fit.
As I scrolled I came down to the breakdown of the course: The Promise, The Process, The Promotion.
I stopped.
The symbol for “The Promotion” was a mountain icon. The same one that I had on a necklace.
No big deal… just a coincidence. Right?
Not for me. A few weeks before my “Desert season” started I found the necklace in a gift shop near work. I’ve always liked it, but this time as I walked by the Holy Spirit whispered to me:
(Buy it. Wear it and remember my promises to you. We will move mountains together)
I bought it. And I wear it semi-regularly to remind me that God walks with me, not above me.
I stared at the icon on the screen. Then I read more about “The Promise” section:
“God has a due date for the end of your wilderness and the realization of your promise. God often fulfills His promises in ways we don’t plan or expect, but he is always faithful.”
He is always faithful.
Dear friend, He is always faithful. I won’t ever be without things for the Lord to purify and work out. Always in process. Maybe I will always be a little bit lost. But the truth of it is this: He is faithful. He loves fully. He is never as far from us as we think or feel. Sometimes the desert is a time for declaring what we know to be the truth.
Declare who you are!
Declare who He is!
Declare what is truth and what His promises are!
He will be faithful and the desert won’t last forever. Our God cares enough to give us some “manna” to make it through.
I am thirsty for living water and I trust Him to bring it to me when I need it.
And maybe the necklace thing was a coincidence. One that sprinkled vital drops of life-water and hope over my parched heart.
but I don’t believe in coincidence.
What hindered love—even if it is my misdirection—is only part of my story, my journey.
Grace falls like rain. The desert becomes my oasis because He is the only source of water here. My only means of survival. I can’t give credit anywhere else because there isn’t anything else that can reach me here. Like a stone gushing water for the Israelites (Psalm 105:41) There is no other source. Perhaps that is why I needed a desert season.
Grace waters the soul.