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Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Walking Through the Wasteland

The cold, wintry day in January 2003 started out average enough. A new year was unfolding in front of me and my spirits were high. Not long into the morning, however, the phone at work kept ringing with personal calls for me, calls that couldn't wait until I got home that evening. Each message laid a weight on my heart, steadily applying pressure as I tried to peform my job responsibilities. The stress and strain on my heart finally reached my eyes--it was difficult to see my paperwork through the blur of tears.

First came the news of my 6-day-old grandson, Keaston: a hole had been found in his tiny, newborn heart. He was scheduled to see a specialist and I felt I couldn't wait for the test results to come back. Second was a call from my mother: the doctor found cancer in my father's lung. The third and final report affected my 18-year-old son, Tim. He had been suffering headaches and the doctor wanted to test him for the same blood clotting disorder that plagued his father and sister. The doctor discovered the headaches may be caused from small blood clots in his brain.


Three devastating phone calls in less than 3 hours had me frazzled. When I was able to collect my thoughts, I called my church to request prayer. I confessed to my friend that all I wanted to do was retreat ... run and hide somewhere, take cover under my desk and stay there until the storms passed. The steam in the pressure cooker was building, and I felt that if one more bad thing happened, I would explode! In my heart of hearts, I knew that the spirit of despair was waiting for me if I chose to hide. I asked my friends to pray for the "warrier spirit" to fill my heart. At the end of today, I wanted to be standing on TOP of my desk instead of quivering with fear UNDER it!


When lunchtime arrived, I decided to take a walk instead of escaping for a drive. Besides, I didn't trust myself behind the steering wheel in my mental state. Walking was safer than dealing with traffic on Powers Boulevard any time of day, and I could use the fresh air and fresh perspective, away from the office.


As I started out on my journey, the reality of the news I received that morning hit me full force. Tears flooded my eyes and my heart felt as if was being torn from my chest. Each step pounded the replay button, repeating the words in my head. Three generations--my father, my son, and my grandson--fell under attack simultaneously. I was angry. I was discouraged. I was hopeless.


My eyes searched the walking trail as my head hung low, desperate to find truth in God to lift my spirits. The dirty, cluttered sidewalk stretched out before me: dry and desolate, littered with trash, noisy traffic just yards away. The motorists on the six-lane highway were too busy ... too much in a hurry to even notice such an inconsequential being as me. I gingerly stepped among broken glass, dry branches, brittle leaves, and fresh horse droppings. The trail resembled my life at that moment: broken, dry, decaying.


I exhaled deeply, "Lord! I'm walking through a wasteland! Where are You?"


Immediately, the Lord answered, "This is not your land, this is not your inheritance." His words surged through my heart like a cool breeze on a hot summer day, reminding me of His Truth. As His words sunk in, I realized, this is NOT my land! Yes, I have to walk through planet earth, but this is NOT where I will dwell forever! God's words reminded me that we all have to pass through this fallen world with its sin, sickness, and personal trials, but this is not "all" there is!


As God's truth sunk in deeper, I felt pressure on my chin as if the Lord Himself placed his hand there, lifting my face to the mountains out west. A scripture came to mind:


I lift up my eyes to the hills --

where does my help come from?

My help comes from the LORD,

the Maker of heaven and earth.

Psalm 121:1-2


Brilliant white clouds drifted past majestic mountains, changing my view from a desolate wasteland to a bright, cultivated future. A future with the Lord! Gratitude overwhelmed me: God's power reminded my faint heart that it is not through any self-indulgent life that Christ will lead us to greatness. I had been praying for an easy life when the Lord interrupted, challenging me to pray for strength instead! I prayed for tasks equal to my power; God instructed me to pray for power equal to my tasks!


I was able to return to work and STAND on my desk! Figuratively, anyway. Distress had dragged me down to a new low that morning, but God had replaced it with His amazing peace. The bad news had not changed, but I had! He released the steam in my pressure cooker, and I was able to face the news with a warrior spirit, confident that God had me in the palm of His hand!