In the Middle of it, Unsure What to Do
In a moment of peace, high up on a hill, I knew the Lord loved me. Every breath in and exhale out brought me closer to understanding the logic of his fantastical unconditional love for me. In the warm sunset far away behind distant, climb-able hills, he showed me the best colors in the world.
I said to him, I’ll go there if you want me to. I look at the hills. I raise my hands. Up here, I’m taller than a lot of trees. I can’t believe he brought me here. My clothes aren’t as warm as they could be. A gentle cool wind thrills me. I close my eyes, still facing the sun.
Lord, thank you for this moment.
A small noise causes me to open my eyes and I spot a most adorable little round bunny hopping down the hill. I gasp with excitement.
God, what?! So cute!!
Next, in my peripheral, a large-winged bird flies into view. It’s a majestic bald eagle! Right there in front of me! Soft-feathered wings in graceful motion make me open my mouth in wonder as I crane my neck to see it fly past, directly up over my head.
I lift up a cheer, pumping my fist in the air. What a symbol of freedom!
God, I do not want to leave this awesome moment, but I want so desperately to go exactly wherever you want me to go! Whatever you want me to do, God!
“Good,” He says. “Let’s go.”
He leads me on, full of praise and freedom. I’m free to want what He wants, infinitely more than what my heart wanted yesterday.
He takes me into a dark wood. I slog through mud. I’m so dang free, but my feet slog. I know with most-solid certainty that He brought me here, to this dark bog. It’s really hard to move my legs, and looking around, I don’t see a fast way to dry, solid ground. I don’t know when I’ll get there.
My legs push through. My thighs burn with effort, and I try different methods. At first, I revel in the complexity of different possibilities to get through the mud.
God made my legs so strong! I try lifting each step above the swampy mud. I try my best to run through. My energy for that doesn’t last long, though.
I pause and see up above the crooked branches, sweet light in the sky. God will get me out of here one day. It’s okay if it’s not right now.
I breathe in a wholly-unsatisfying hot breath full of stink, and move my tired legs forward again. You gotta just keep moving to get out of it.
After some time of pushing through, I don’t think I’m walking anymore so much as slugging forward. All over, my muscles light up with the heat of strong effort. If I stop, my legs shake. I breathe only through my mouth, and my chest heaves.
How far have I even gotten? I think I’ve been down in this swamp 100 times longer than when I got to enjoy that hilltop with the warm sunset.
A tinge of frustration flickers inside me, directed at God. I know I asked him to bring me somewhere, it’s just not fun anymore.
“Hey God, I still don’t see any solid ground anywhere nearby. Am I supposed to just keep moving forward?”
He must not be able to hear me through the mug of the thick air.
I’m standing in the middle of it, unsure what to do. I lift my foot to go on, but the muscles in my legs are so tired. They can’t catch me properly. My legs are done.
I can’t do anything else but fully sit down in the muck. My muscles need to rest. I hate how it’s submerged me deeper in muck.
With nothing much else to do, I look around, inspecting my surroundings. I wonder at how these many, many trees seem to thrive with their roots so buried under thick mud. I wonder at the darkness created by their shade. I wonder at the stillness of the air. Never have I experienced such still air.
I think the mud is probably not good to have on my face, so when I find my hands covered in it, I use my shoulder to scratch an itch on my cheek.
I see no ground, but through some reeds, moss-covered rocks peek from the mud. When I catch sight of them, I hear something.
In the stillness, darkness, and mugginess, the rocks are making a noise. They cry out. I can hear their silence, praising my good Lord.
I raise a silent hand in victory, mud running down my arm.
