In the Mysterious Place (or:Back to the Basics)

It would be nice if life played out the way we planned. If we jotted down lists and made goals and jogged along our path with nary a boulder or bump to slow us down. Of course, that’s not the way things usually work. We sprint along, thinking we’re heading in the right direction, and then we run into a cement wall or a bottomless pit or, even, a tall mountain which completely blocks the sun.

At that point, we’ve got to leave the path or stay. Leaving means stepping into uncharted territory, heading in new directions with unknown destinations. Staying means finding a way around or over or under or through. But, which do we do? Do we stay? Do we leave? What is the purpose of this obstacle? To redirect us or to teach us something about grit, determination, faith?

And, so we’re stalled, unsure, faced with this obstacle that we weren’t expecting, and everything we thought we understood about where we were going and how we were going to get there is suddenly in doubt. 

For me, it began with my thumb. Such an undervalued digit, the thumb. A nice little addition to the hand that allows for grasping, holding, opening. Mine was fine one day, working the way it always did. The next day it hurt and it looked…funny. Kind of bent to one side, but maybe not. Maybe that was the way my thumb had always looked. Or so I told myself, because there was no way something was actually wrong.

I tried to ignore the poor maligned digit. I braced it for my July book signing in San Antonio, and laughed about the incongruity of a writer who could not write. Secretly, I was beginning to worry, because a week after the thumb went wonky, several joints in other fingers did.

 

They hurt.

And made me think about my hands. Something I generally don’t spend much time doing. Nor do I usually think about my knees…which had begun to ache.

You know what else I took for granted? My energy level. The thing that got me out of bed every morning at six and kept me going until long after the sun went down? It had gone the way of the painless thumb and pain-free hands– disappeared. Not there.  I would wake at my normal time, and by ten in the morning, I was exhausted. There were days when I would drive my kids to an activity, arrive home and sit in the van, wondering how I could make it the twenty or so feet to the front door.

I had not known what exhaustion was before this. I had only thought I did.

And, so I struggled. With everything. Housework. Relationships. Writing. It was all piling up because no matter how much I told myself I had to do the things that would keep my life running, I could not.

Could not.

And I was there, in that place, heading to the doctor and getting blood test after blood test with only one clear answer – my immune system was on the attack, and I was the enemy.

 

This, then, became my obstacle. The thing in my path. The wall that loomed so tall and high I couldn't see over the top of it. In this mysterious place, in this unknown, in this shadow-area that only I am dwelling in, I have listened for the voice of my Creator, I have waited for Him to say – give up, turn away, take a different path.

All I  have heard is silence and my own frantic struggles.

Because everything I’ve worked for? I felt it slipping from my grasp.  The more tightly I held on, the taller the obstacle grew. The more desperate I became, the more impossible the task of climbing over, forging around, digging beneath seemed.

And that’s when it hit me…

This stuff that I’ve done…the writing, the homeschooling, the building of friendships and the maintaining of relationships, all that effort that I put in, it was not wasted. I laid the foundation for wonderful things. I did what I was asked to do, what I thought God wanted of me, and I built something strong, something that did not need so much effort on my own part, something that could rely on what had already been built. Something that could, if I let it, find its way around or through or under the wall.

I thought about my beginning as a writer, how I had baby goals, because I had babies in my house – little ones who needed vast amounts of attention.

I had limited time to accomplish my goals, and so my goals were smaller, more manageable. As the years have progressed, the goals have progressed and grown and morphed into a beast that I face every day, because I want to.

But, now I can't.

What I can do, is what I did before, and so I go back to the basics, I return to what I was when everything was new – marriage, motherhood, writing:

1.       I pray without words, because there are no words to describe the depth of our need for God, for His divine presence in our lives. With Him, all is possible.  Without Him, nothing is worthwhile.  And, so I sit in silence, and I listen to the pulse of the astounding universe, hear the simple truth rustling in the leaves or splashing in rainy puddles– I am not alone.

2.       I persist.  Even when things are hard. Even when the energy isn't there or the words won’t come or walking up the stairs seems as challenging as climbing Mt. Everest. I persist, because persisting in the face of trials builds strength, and strength gained through those trials has the power to knock down the largest of obstacles.

3.        I do just a little. Every day. Just a small amount, because a small amount becomes a large amount over time. My days of writing 5k are past (for now), but I can write 2K without difficulty. So, I do, and I watch as the word count that had stalled works its way up. I do more laundry less frequently, make less complicated dinners and – often- pass the job of cooking or cleaning off to my very capable children. I can't do an hour at the gym, but I can walk and so I do. Slowly, slowly, my life is being shaped into what my new reality has made it – less busy, slower -, and I feel…satisfied and content, and think I see a glimmer of light shining through that giant wall.

4.       I trust. Always. That things are what they are meant to be, that a person can make the best even out of a bad situation, and that in doing so she can show the world what it means to have faith, to keep going, to believe.  That trust? It explodes against the most challenging of obstacles, the highest of walls. It knocks down what was once in our way, and makes a path to something new and wonderful.  Therein lies the true mystery of faith – not that all goes well for those who trust Him but that when it doesn’t, we have peace. And, I have. Finally. After many months and many wordless prayers. Peace. As undervalued as a thumb, and yet the most valuable of resources when giant obstacles suddenly appear.

Peace.

May God grant it to you today. Whatever your circumstance, whatever obstacles you face, may you have that. And whether you go around or over or under or through, or head off the path to find new directions, may you always know the depth of His love and passion for you.  

Shirlee