God, I understand now.
I see the distractions the past month brought to shield my vision. I see the way my feet– the feet you healed– have wandered. But I see You. I see the cross. And suddenly, like rain, the cross is all I see.
Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord. His going out is as sure as the dawn; he will come to us like the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth.”
My soul is quieted, but I can’t help but lip sync to worship songs into my hairbrush while staring into my bathroom mirror.
I’ve been at a loss for words as I exited 2015, on the verge of a breakthrough that felt as though it led to nothing.
Little did I know, it led to everything.
I fought two months of trying to find You. But You were there.
And you promised me a harvest, a grand harvest season.
I watched for it, but felt as though it would never arrive. Or if it had, I feared that I was blind.
But in this moment, as the new year begins, you whispered to me in Your quiet voice, “gather.”
Your faithfulness makes sense now, to me.
To enjoy a harvest, I first must gather the wheat from the fields. But my impatience lacked the proper endurance to fully give thanks for the things You provided.
The relationships on the mend.
The money for Thailand.
The challenge of “busy.”
The unanswered prayers, the distress.
The two flat tires.
The grad school opportunity.
The restless nights, the 3am prayers that kept me awake. The lives that are being changed because of those prayers. My life being changed because of those prayers.
The frustration of difficult situations.
The labor is over. I understand now.
Because in my mind, when You provided those things, I was confused. Those things felt so far away, there were so many things I thought I needed immediately that I would have traded these gifts instead for peace for the moment.
But You knew.
It wasn’t about me. It wasn’t about what I thought I needed. Even in my disappointment, You kept giving. You knew.
You kept giving so that I now can see: you don’t need me. But You love me. And a parent gives good gifts to their children, but there is so much more our Father in heaven can give.
And you knew that when I entered 2016, I would need to have those things. So you gave them to me, the way a parent fixes a child dinner when he goes out to play. A parent knows the child will be hungry, even if the child denies it will be something he needs. And when he comes back in from his playing, he finds the sandwich waiting on a plate for him.
That’s what You did for me.
What have I ever given to You, that I did not first receive from You?
There is nothing.
I cannot create anything that You did not first create for me.
And I can hear it, I can hear the soothing of a quiet mind and a soft heart that You have given. I am sorry. I am sorry for not understanding what You were doing. But that’s why You are God. It is why I am not. You do not miss a thing.
You did it for me.
It’s not about me.
And the nights that felt like I would drown in my guilt and regret now feel a thousand worlds away. The days I stared into the mirror angry because I thought I could do it on my own, thought I knew better than my Father are replaced with walking past the mirror with joy.
Thank you for the plans You have for me. Thank you for this season. Thank you for 2016. Hallelujah.
A Harvest of Joy – Psalm 126
When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion,
we were like those who dream.
2 Then our mouth was filled with laughter,
and our tongue with shouts of joy;
then it was said among the nations,
“The Lord has done great things for them.”
3 The Lord has done great things for us,
and we rejoiced.
4 Restore our fortunes, O Lord,
like the watercourses in the Negeb.
5 May those who sow in tears
reap with shouts of joy.
6 Those who go out weeping,
bearing the seed for sowing,
shall come home with shouts of joy,
carrying their sheaves.