Sitting on a low wooden stool, surrounded by stacks of greeting cards, my children’s artwork and mementos I’d kept since before college, I capture a small snapshot of my life. Maybe more like a refrigerator collage of all the best moments.
We’re pulling ourselves from the solitude inside the house during this forced waiting period, past the invisible walls of resistance, into the garage. The garage that looks like a battlefield of surrender; boxes half empty, childhood trinkets strewn on top of, well, whatever flat surface looks cleanest and most sturdy.
We haven’t been swept up into the clouds yet but daily life feels a bit foggy.
Soldiers for Christ, they don’t just walk away and abandon hope when disappointed.
I pull dated letters from dusty boxes and it’s as if God is highlighting frames of my story through handwriting of the saints, revealing how I got to this place.
Of waiting.
And wondering.
And wishing.
Isolation, it tricks you into forgetting that God has a master plan for your life, that you matter.
But God, He isn’t making up your storyline like an impromptu reading of poetry in the middle of your quiet dinner. No, He doesn’t say, “Oops, I wasn’t planning on that” or “I don’t know what to do about that now.”
Words penned and forgotten, piled in boxes hanging with silky strands of spider webs, they still beat with life, pulsing with the promise of fulfillment.
As long as you are alive, He is dedicated to you. Even now, those friendships aren’t random or conversations insignificant, they are an integral part in the process of your salvation.
You are not forgotten.
Sometimes it takes a waiting period to notice the kindness of redemption. The way He is present in every detail; in every moment of stubborn silence.
Boxes of forgotten moments, they are a foreshadowing of life calling — one person, one place, one season at a time. A confirmation that you are headed in the right direction when you feel lost without GPS or a road map.
He’s never in a rush because love isn’t pushy.
I believe but help me remember that tomorrow.
This is in every way right and beautiful, but oh, how true are these words of yours: Isolation, it tricks you into forgetting that God has a master plan for your life, that you matter. And we do notice more of his goodness in the hard place of waiting. At least I do and eventually I remember to be thankful. I’m always thankful for God’s goodness to remind me and his goodness in remembering me. Thank you multiplying the blessing of wisdom from your waiting time by sharing it with us.
I need lots of repetition in my life Natalie. It’s just the way I roll. And I agree about seeing more of God’s goodness in the waiting. Something beautiful I didn’t expect.
I’m there with you, realizing how God can use words across seasons, penned in love, to re-speak comfort, truth, and remembrance–all tangible proof of His providential care. He knew you would read those letters and cards when you needed them most–maybe even more now than before they were written. He’s feeding you on words while you wait. What rich fare. I had a similar experience this summer when I sifted through FIVE bankers boxes of notes, cards, and letters. I hardly had time to read them all, but sorted through, and did take time to read some. ANd how my soul was soothed and sustained. Some were penned back when I was leaving a career to raise Sheridan–a very difficult transition for me, but these notes gave me courage. God will continue to strengthen you day by day, Shelly, in ways unexpected like Allume, like notes in the garage. He’s behind it all
Sending so much love and more words now…..prayers for your journey.
Love
Lynn
PS I’m thinking this is a photo of Windsor Castle. Lovely.
It is Windsor, you know your English landmarks Lynn. I do sense God’s intimate presence with me daily through this season. The cards are just one of many things He has used to speak to me of destiny and calling. I’m grateful.
Well Shelly, in all these words of yours, talking about the words of others sent to you in a different time, a different place, YOU have reminded me: “Isolation, it tricks you into forgetting that God has a master plan for your life, that you matter.” I think I should pen those words onto a card and tape them up somewhere in order to remember this as Old Man Winter approaches. I do not handle winter well, often feel isolated here in the boonies, often feel so alone and forgotten as others around me go on with their more exciting lives. He does see me, He does know me, He will help me through if I look to Him.
But this isn’t about me. It’s about you, in the Waiting Room of His master plan. Soldier on, Shelly. Do not abandon hope. He’s got your back. He will provide. And one fine day, soon, you will receive those much-anticipated ‘marching orders’ and you’ll be off to London! Oh, the adventure that awaits you there! Know that I am praying for you, my Friend.
I think wintering of the soul is often felt in the season of winter with all it’s barrenness. Have you read Spiritual Rhythms by Mark Buchanan? If you haven’t, I think you would love it Jillie. Thank you for being hope for me. I hear it and see it and I’m so grateful.
I was studying the first verses of Hebrews 11 this morning–the verses on faith. My Utmost for His Highest inspired me (Oct. 30-31 — so good). I was looking up some of the Greek and meditating, when God reminded me that those who pleased God, who were commended, were receiving a “verb.” Their faith accepted fully by God was their testimony, the way they lived, their trust in his plan…(the one they could not actually or fully see.) Faith doesn’t bring to God’s altar what we want to give (Cain) but what we are willing to sacrifice (Abel). This is the surrendered life, the life of faith. This is the life you are living and sharing with us this month and the one you will live— knowing that the sacrifices you and H are making are not what you pick and choose from among the boxes. You are giving your very lives. I even found a verse I want mentioned at my funeral (Ha! Don’t you hate it when people say that!!? But I can’t help it, the thought did occur to me!!) In Heb. 11:4 “And through (her) faith, though (s)he died, (s)he still speaks.” I think this is more than about physical dying. It is the dying to self, the life of surrender that SPEAKS. You, my friend, live by faith and surely it pleases God. Your life speaks, your testimony pleasing to God, inspiring others. Praying for you today and everyday. I have you in my heart and I hope in some way this helped you to “remember.” Dea
I need to go read that devo in MUFHH. I love the way your mind thinks and I have a feeling that this comment right here is better than Chambers, just sayin’. Thank you for sharing this, it blessed me.
So appreciate the reminder that God is dedicated to us, that our friendships are not random, and conversations are not insignificant. God uses ALL of it to mold us, encourage us, strengthen us, give us cheer, and more.
So much of life is the way we respond to it. Just watch Survivor or the Amazing Race and see that illustrated. Thanks for being here Nancy.