We
were staying in the Wisconsin Dells that night. It was August, 2017, and my
family and I were en route to Chicago on a family vacation. I remember sitting
in the dark car with my dad, tears pouring down my face. It didn’t make sense,
none of it did. My heart was broken, broken with the weight of things that
seemed so big, so insurmountable, so final.
It’s
August, 2018. The glow from my laptop illuminates my otherwise dark room, and I
sit here, a completely different person.
I
haven’t written a blog post like this in a while. But an idea started to pulse
in my mind a while ago, and I’m exhausted right now, but this is important. I
want to talk about this walk with Jesus we’re on.
It’s
lonely.
It’s
Tuesday mornings waking up and feeling like you’re the only one in your friend
group who’s not in your dream college. It’s Sunday mornings crying “there’s
nothing here for me….why am I still here?” It’s Monday night, driving home
alone and desperately crying, surrendering with a heart that is confused and
scared, but whispering, shouting, crying that you still trust Jesus, though you
do not understand.
My
life hasn’t made a lot of sense. It’s had a lot of twists and turns, and the
thought occurs to me frequently: this walk, following Jesus, is lonely.
You
feel this, don’t you? You, too, are on a path mapped out for only you, with
hurts that others will never understand and scars that only you see. You too,
are on a path that violently turns and bends and leaves you asking, “God, I
trusted you; why am I here?”
Oh
my friends, let your hope rest fully in the Lord, within these feelings. Let
your trust grow exponentially in his grace and goodness.
Because a lonely road is one that makes you own your
faith. One that makes you the kind of person who can change the world for
Christ. A lonely road is the very road that leads you to the most beautiful
relationship with Christ that is literally peace and joy and rest and
friendship and love that will bring you to tears. A lonely road is the road where you will feel the least lonely, really.
And there were
other days, days that existed only because I had trusted Jesus with my entire
heart. Days that only made sense inside of this walk that seemed so foreign to
God’s apparent plan for the rest of mankind.
African
rainstorms.
Cross-country
drives.
Worship
sessions.
Dancing.
Long talks with
close friends.
Forgiveness.
And amidst all
of the moments, the ones that broke me and the ones that made my heart rejoice,
there were the moments with Jesus. His guidance. His discipline. Laughing
together. Checking in. Apologizing. Praying, as to a friend, as to a divine
Savior. Worshiping with a heart that might threaten
to burst with joy.
I’m grateful for
the times my heart broke, with death, or confusion, or hurt. I’m grateful for
the deepest moments of joy I’ve ever experienced and the grief that made me run
ever more to Jesus. These days have stretched me in more ways than I thought
possible; it has been one thing after another of unexpected.
Very unexpected.
Except for one
thing.
Jesus.
So be grateful when you're the only one. Rejoice when you're the only one doing the right thing. Walk in praise when it literally makes no sense, at all, whatsoever.
Because there is Jesus.
There with you and me through it all.
Through our mistakes and awkwardness and questions and doubt and insecurity and grasping ignorantly for approval in places that were never meant to define our identity.
He was there. He
always has been. And he always will be.
{I love You,
Jesus. More than I can put into words. You alone have brought me this far. Your
grace has covered my mistakes, and your truth heals the rawest wounds I’ve ever
experienced. You are so incredibly good to me, and this life will be beautiful
because of one thing: your presence. I may be the only one taking this
path, but I look up, and there you are, walking beside me, because you love me
with the deepest and truest love that strips away all of the words and all of
the actions and all of the lies and pride and feelings and leaves a
breathtaking view of only…
your grace.}
