See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland.
The wild animals honor me,
the jackals and the owls,
because I provide water in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland,
to give drink to my people, my chosen,
the people I formed for myself
that they may proclaim my praise.
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland.
The wild animals honor me,
the jackals and the owls,
because I provide water in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland,
to give drink to my people, my chosen,
the people I formed for myself
that they may proclaim my praise.
-Isaiah 43:19-21
Two weeks ago, I had a dream. Not just any dream. Not a running in a field of flowers dream. This was an eye-opening, soul-shaking, earth-shattering kind of dream. I won't go into the entire thing, but I will tell you that in this dream I was lost. I knew where I was and where I wanted to be, but it was all wrong. There were women and children suffering right in front of my face, but instead of me reaching out to help, I just watched. I was too concerned with my own objective. Eventually, there came the conclusion of this dream which left me questioning my soul's fate. I hadn't questioned this in a long time. I had an intimate relationship with Jesus and I knew where I would go after this body wears out.
After waking up from this dream, shaking not just physically, but deep within my soul, I knew changes needed to happen. Right now. I opened my devotional for the first time in a long time and I dove into the word much like my sloppy Great Dane does with her water dish on a hot day. (Gross, but a good depiction.) Afterward, I still wanted more, so I turned on YouTube and watched the latest message from my home church way down in Hinesville, Georgia.
The worship was so good, leaving me as a big ole ball of tears and snot. The message was perfectly designed for me. In this moment. On this day. Mine. I was listening to my dear friend, brother, and pastor preach into my soul like applying soothing medicine on a burning wound. I was seeing the backs of the heads of my beloved family. I was watching my very best friend and wishing I was sitting beside her. A crazy thought occurred to me to maybe just check airfare and see what happens. So I did.
Turns out tickets weren't too bad, and they were flying right into Savannah (which never happens). After talking to Mike (who was instantly sold on the idea), I booked our flights. Mike and I would fly to Georgia and be able to worship beside our family again. Yes, our kids were disappointed. Angry and upset, they didn't understand why they couldn't come with us. They miss our Georgia people just as badly as we do.
We flew out on Friday and we were both smiles and excitement all day. We were like kids heading to Disney World!
That weekend was perfect. It was full from the moment we got there. Everything felt normal, like we had never left. This was our life. It wasn't strange or awkward or uncomfortable. These people have been instrumental in our birth, our walk, and our continual growth as Christians. These people not only care for us, but they care deeply for our souls. They love us in that Jesus-agape-type love that allows them to put selfish ambition aside and desire our holiness over their happiness. It's a pure type of love that we have never experienced elsewhere.
Every day was filled with love, deep and meaningful conversation, joy, laughter, and food. Really good food. I felt joy again like I hadn't in a long time. The kind of joy that makes you want to run through an inflatable obstacle course (that never ends) in almost 90 degree weather, right after eating fried chicken. It is crazy joy and it was well worth the stomach ache afterward. Laughing from deep in my spirit, remembering what it was like to be silly and ridiculous and not care. It was so good.
Leaving that place was arduous to say the least. I could hardly speak, or I would lose my composure. It felt like there was this glorious joy-filled dancing of souls, all laughing and spinning around in this beautiful mess of a dance... and I was being pried from it, weary and heartbroken. Having to make my way back to the desert. My heart ached and my soul longed to turn around every step of the way back to Wisconsin.
I was refreshed, but devastated at the same time. It was a confusing place to be and I didn't really know how to cope with it. So I just rested in God, trusting that He knew exactly what to do.
I believe the reason I feel like myself in Georgia, is because for the first time in my life, I had been living as God as always intended. I was living out my purpose and my calling. I was seeking the lost, and I was praying for them, worshipping with them, and loving them back into the arms of their Savior. I was doing something meaningful and using the gifts and abilities God has bestowed on me.
Since moving away, I haven't found a place where I feel like I can step out in the middle of worship and pray over someone. I don't think it would be acceptable for me to drop to my knees and sob like a giant baby, or dance in the aisle, or speak a word over a perfect stranger. I don't know how those would be received here and I feel like I am in chains. Like I need to keep my mouth and my body still, so as not to make anyone uncomfortable. Maybe these are lies the enemy is telling me to keep me in this dark place, or maybe its reality. I just know that I feel stifled. I want to shout His love from the rooftops, but I feel silenced.