Well, it would seem that Spring has sprung, and Daylight Savings Time is almost upon us. With that also comes the awful stormy March Oklahoma weather—wet, dreary, and just plain blah. They're the kind of days that you wish you could spend curled up at home with a hot cup of tea and a good book or movie (or in my case, time for writing) but instead you find yourself with cold, wet feet at a job that you find frustrating and slightly mind-numbing. The sun does come out, but only a day or so at a time—taunting you into believing it's April.
That's what I find surrounding me these days, both figuratively and literally.
It seems like a never-ending battle for me. I'm sure for most of you as well. You have some dream that God has placed in you. You have the passion to do it. Your heart is burdened with the mission of that dream. You begin strong, ecstatic that that you've finally figured out what it is that you're supposed to do with your life—at least, some faint semblance of what you're supposed to. Then…life happens. Bills accumulate. Passion is replaced by duty, and the dream that you had is merely a vague shadow somewhere in the back of your mind. You begin to lose parts of your vitality and proceed to merely exist. Doubts begin to arise as to whether you heard the call to that dream correctly, or if that's all it merely was—a dream. Before too long, you find yourself sitting at home, completely robbed of your creativity, willpower and confidence.
It would seem as though God had led you into this valley to die a slow, painfully emo death.
Then…at just the right time…He finds a way to always remind you of His presence and the fact that He's not through with you yet.
That's what amazed me when Preston drew out this selection at this time of all times. I literally started laughing and crying at the same time the moment he gave it to me, which puzzled him immensely. What he and undoubtedly you don't know is that this album is one of those that, when I go through a tough time, somehow it creeps its way back into my life and reminds me that God is still beside me, persuading me to choose joy instead of sorrow. It's cheesy, and I don't listen to it that often because of that fact; but when push comes to shove, it resonates within my soul and renews my resolve to go on a little longer and not give up. One of the songs, "Out of My Hands", talks of those times when things overwhelm, brings us to our knees, and of the need to trust the situation to God:
"It's out of my hands
It's out of my reach
It's over my head
It's out of my league
There's too many things
That I don't understand
So it's into Your will
And it's out of my hands"
I know it's silly, but with that and a few other things that have occurred recently, I know that God was speaking to me and reminding me of His promises to me. It's still difficult, and this work week is testament to that fact. But now, I don't feel so much that I was led here to die. I was led here to live.
Numbers 23:19—"God is not a man, that he should lie, nor a son of man, that He should change his mind. Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfill?"
In spite of the storms…in spite of the valleys…I must always remember that from that springs forth the one of the greenest times of the season. It has always been my favorite part of the season, as a matter of fact. I always love the look of the fields below my grandparents' house after a long bought of rain in the spring. I have a feeling that it's almost as green as Ireland itself at that moment. It's in that lush, green field that I once envisioned myself during a moment of worship dancing with God.
Beauty forged from adversity. Violent beauty.
It seems only fitting.
