Tame

Like every month in the past year, January is unfolding unlike any other we've experienced as a family. After months of waiting and praying about whether or not my dear man would take the job abroad, I suddenly found myself standing outside of the airport, taking quick shots of the kids saying goodbye and hastily kissing him goodbye. He pushed his cart loaded with three oversized suitcases and disappeared into the terminal.  

We've been here before. The first few days are chaotic, emotional and confusing. Kids are bickering about who locked the door while they took the dog for the morning walk, I blow up at them for fighting and then they scatter to the farthest corners of the house. I take a deep breath, search the house to find my third locked in the guest bathroom, and knock on the door. She opens the door, face smudged with fresh tears, and I apologize for my outburst.  We are all grieving and need to be gentle with each other. 

That night, my fourth pulls out a kid's devotion and slides it to me. "Let's read," she says. At the end of a long, emotional day, my heart pulls at this because my default is to get quiet, internalize my grief and hide. She begins to read the verse from 2 Samuel, describing how David wanted to build a temple for the Lord, but when he asked God, he said no. It would be the job given to David's son, Solomon. After reading the devotion, my sweet girl turned to me and said, "Mom, this was perfect for today. We prayed- a lot- that God would keep dad home. But He didn't. He knows what's best for us." 

When I hid my heart from God, nursing it instead with my own disappointment, He spoke instead to my daughter, who's soft heart was willing, even in the midst of her own grieving, to receive a hard word of loving truth. It reminded me of what my husband said to me on the way to the airport, "I'd rather leave and know He will bless us as a family because I've obeyed, than to push to stay home and not receive that blessing." 

I have been here before. I know that the Lord can work through this time, can take our family by the hand and provide for every need. But I just didn't want to be here. I don't want to embrace this "new normal," amidst the new normal of COVID, summer of rioting and now election chaos. I feel beyond beyond myself. 

When I look back at my life, I see that with every passing year, life has become more changeable, marked with loss, with bigger transitions as kids get older and less predictability. My default is always to root in, dig deep into good friendships and community, and stick with what is comfortable. My past has been punctuated by the unmistakable and kind hand of God, who is more interested in bringing my heart closer to Him than to make me comfortable. The oft-repeated quote from Lewis' story comes to mind, with Mr. Beaver's fierce admission concerning Aslan ring true: "Safe? Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good."

I also remember the less quoted scene from A Horse and His Boy when Shasta and Aravis are on horseback, being chased by a wild lion, who pursues them with savage abandon and draws its claws down the young woman's back before she and Shasta fairly collapse into the walled gardens of the hermit. Later, Aslan admits to being this Lion, among other cats in the book, and we begin to understand that what appeared as a detriment to the hero and heroine was really the One thing that enabled them to complete their epic journey to alert the unsuspecting King of Archenland of a coming invasion by the Calormenes. 

Sometimes God needs to repeat Himself a few times so that we can hear. And He did. In a devotion about trusting Him when things turn out in ways we don't expect. Then as a prayer warrior shared how God is taking us into the wilderness to show us what is in our hearts. Then in verses that helped me to see how I have been hedging around my life according to how I think things need to go. And in a separate devotion, a call to realize that even the most noble, great, visionary plan cannot even touch the greatness and glory of God's calling on our lives. He is not tame. His ways are dangerous even. But He is so good. And He is faithful. 

I don't know what the next days, weeks and months will bring. And if I can silence my inner control room for a bit, enough to listen more, be still more, rest more... then I can begin to hear the dreams that the Father has for me and my family, which are greater than I could ever conceive. 

Remember how the Lord your God led you through the wilderness for these forty years, humbling you and testing you to prove your character and to find out whether or not you would obey His commands. Deuteronomy 8:2

I will walk the blind by an unknown way and guide them on paths they've never traveled. I will smooth their difficult road and make their dark mysteries bright with light. These are things I will do for them, for I will never abandon my beloved ones. Isaiah 42:16