Today is Day 7 – the last day – of my fast, and I want to drop a quick note about something that just bloomed into comprehension for me. My wasteland is God’s garden. It’s one thing to hear that, and another to actually live it.
The death of Don, a true and beloved friend, was an enormous blow – and barely a month ago. It sent me to my knees, and then to my face. I thought, “Surely God will lift me up.” Well, no. The Lord began pushing and poking and pressing. I’d start to get up and He’d clothesline me right back down. It made me so damn mad! And that’s what He intended to provoke: a deep root of anger and bitterness with Him that had me firmly lashed to the idolatry of my mind. “God, You don’t take care of me, so I reserve the right to take the wheel.”
God perfectly, and LOVINGLY, devastated me. That’s what it took to expose and break this fiercely guarded fortress that stood between me and Him. I can see Him working in me, and I know that it is absolutely Him because I am desolate. I remind myself that everyone has a giant idol that must be smashed. I’m not the first to walk through this desert and I won’t be the last. And I find myself remembering Don and how the Father’s love for him lit him up from the inside out. I think Don would tell me that the life and love of God’s Son filling me without obstacle is worth the trek.
So today, I feel hope. I feel it welling up in me and spilling out to fill the air around me. That voice saying this is all there will ever be? That my life will never really change? Liar.
I see what God’s done in 7 days, and I hope.
