It stood out on the horizon, the brilliant creation of my own making–glimmering quartz-like sand. I built turrets and moats, roadways and bridges. There were first, second and third stories with victory flags all around it. Imaginary furniture with a lengthy farmhouse dining table, set and ready for company.
I planned it, prepared it, executed it. I even caught a mental snapshot of it, before it happened…
No amount of blocking would do it. The waves kept inching closer and closer. I tried to stop them, even sat in front of the barrier. But no, the sand underneath me and my creation was upset…and down it went.
Then I sat in front of it in stunned silence. It was gone. I could quote all the happy positive scriptures–all things work together for good. His strength is perfected in my weakness. He knows the plans He has for me, plans to prosper me and not harm me.
Then why do I feel harmed? Where is the good? Where is this strength?
Oh but I know! I know the song I have sung, since I was really young…the wise man built his house upon the Rock and the rains came tumbling down. The house on the Rock? It stood firm. The one on the sand? It washed away.
So as I look at our current journey and our current place in the CURRENTS that are relentlessly crashing against me and my family, I see what is left. And that, I guess is the part that was planted on the Rock. It must be. For the currents were going to remove all that we built on the sand…without mercy. It’s all gone–beyond our reach.
All those dreams of things we built? They are also gone. We are faced with the stark reality. Little is left. The small debts we owed when we arrived in College Station are multiplying–vehicles, teeth, college and so on. And we? Well, we are still alright…but if this is a snapshot for you, I would guarantee that you would think we had made some grave errors in the sight of God and man. Is this what blessing looks like?
So we are confounded, confused that this journey has not yet taken a turn…it is all a little muddy to us. And we? Well we feel a little muddy, too. I guess while we are here, we might as well make mudpies…
Ah now, you see I am being silly. Crazy even. Why, in the midst of such hard circumstances, would you do that?
Well? Because we can. And because sometimes the coolness of the wet mud is comforting to our work-weary hands. Maybe also because we know that the hot sun on our creation will make it stronger. We still have hope.
Perhaps some of our hopes were misplaced. Perhaps we misled others in thinking it would all work out pretty early on with our move here…perhaps. But you need to know this. We know the Lord led us here. We see that He has provided for us, even in miraculous ways. We know and we see. And there is much we are thankful for. There is still a small and smooth, but strong, rock of hope we have in Jesus Christ. Perhaps we will build our mudpies on it for now!
I acknowledge before you right now that much of what I see is not what is really going on…there are some undercurrents of good happening along with the undercurrents of destruction. And based on what we see, we might choose to go back…and wish the past year had not happened. But that small and smooth, strong rock of hope? It says that there is SO MUCH MORE than we can see. So much. And for that alone on this day, we continue the course forward…still hoping and praying for provision and wisdom…for a real place to own with all our furniture and ready for company, like the one I imagined. We will see! But even if it doesn’t happen on this side of Heaven, I will still bless the Lord. He is still good. I hope in Him. I choose to do so.
And that is all for today. I hope it helps you all on your own journeys this day!