I turned 34 yesterday. And in thinking over the road ahead of 34, I spent a lot of time reviewing the journey of 33. It is believed Jesus was 33 when He went to the cross and rose again, and in many ways my life was resurrected at 33 after finally understanding it is in the place of dying to myself where life lays in wait. I had an awakening, and it changed me. Some would even testify my very physical appearance was altered. Light can do that- change an image, alter a landscape, ignite a life. And it is a gift. A gift of wonder. I lived many a 33 days in wonder, my eyes having been opened to a deeper reality than I had ever known. In awe of a richer life, one I had heard others speak of, but never understood that I didn’t understand- that is, until I understood. The road down 33 wasn’t always a smooth ride, often times harder than any of those previously traveled 20-something paths, but it was enveloped in purpose and peace spurring me on toward 34. The wonder, always around.
Then, one month ago Africa. Lulu. Us. God. Wonder.
Today, I sit here embarking on 34, and while wonder still permeates – the face of it has changed, for now. I seem to have lost the marveling wonder over the tiniest bits of beauty around me, as I wait in this house wondering when the phone will ring with word of our baby girl. I sit here with tears staining my shirt, full of wonder of how much longer the fight and still, why no word? I wonder how she is, I wonder what to tell our friends, our children, I wonder why I am so angry. And maybe most of all, I am full of wonder over how quietly and quickly the Wonder of my 33 could be overrun by this obnoxious doubt, this crippling unbelief. And I wonder…how do I get back to the Wonder?
How can a season and a path be so completely right and ordained, while simultaneously being so wrong and off-track? How do I celebrate birthdays and school recitals and Rudolph, while praying and fighting endlessly for the one who isn’t yet here for the celebration? From where I stand right now, I can’t see beyond my hand in front of my face so I do all I know to do and keep putting one foot in front of the other and calling for help. God, I believe. Please, help my unbelief. Please, help me see. Please. Bring me back home to the Wonder.
Thanks for loving us through this, even on the foggy days.
xo,
-Sarah
tonibirdsong - Sarah – thanks for sharing this.
So many people are for you and praying for you and for your little Lulu. It’s just my experience I’m sharing but some days—like this day—you need to rest your heart … and your mind … and let the prayers of others carry you. Every detail of this day is in God’s keeping and that means that everything is okay . . . and everything is going to be okay.
I can’t imagine your frustration but I can relate in my own realm. I struggle with the lows and often find most of my time is spent battling my way back to the surface for a breath of fresh air — aka — the Wonder. I often spend most of my time kicking myself because my faith should be stronger, my wisdom should carry me over the jags and crags. Still, I struggle. A lot.
Every day demands fresh Wonder. I’ve quit expecting it to appear. Yesterday’s grace and Wonder isn’t sufficient for today. You have to climb the high dive and leap straight into the heart of God each and every day. Dive deep. Deeper. Don’t come up until you’ve got that Wonder clenched in your teeth. Sounds brutal but such is this dented up planet . . . not yet home . . . always diving for the Wonder.
But you are not alone. We’re here. And you are loved. We will man your post with prayer while your precious, able, warrior heart dives deep and sweet into the cool abyss of God. And rests.
It’s gonna be okay siser. More than ok. Because He promises. And He is not a promise breaker.
My life verse . . . becasue I spend most of my time chasing slippery Wonder . . .
Lamentations 3:22-23:
Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
XOXXOXOXOXOXO