When Life is Like I-69

Last weekend, I drove my family down to Fort Wayne, Indiana so I could attend a reunion of teammates from my summer trip.  We'd been planning the reunion for several weeks and I couldn't wait to get there!  

What I didn't realize was that the route we took would change my perspective on life.

My mom navigated from the passenger seat, and she instructed me to take I-69 all the way to Fort Wayne.  To the untrained eye, taking I-69 does not seem like the best way (the quickest or most convenient) to get from eastern Michigan to northern Indiana.  She assured me from the start, however, that taking I-69 would be the smoothest, least complicated, and most direct way to get to our destination.

Trusting her judgment, since she's made the trip many more times than I have, I began to drive.  It wasn't long, however, before the irony began to set in.  To get to I-69, we had to drive north -- the complete opposite direction of where we wanted to go.  And once we merged onto I-69, we had to drive west!  

Again, I trusted my mom's judgment, but I couldn't help feeling tense as we drove westward, hour after hour, seemingly getting nowhere close to Fort Wayne.  It felt like a waste of time.  If we needed to go south, why did we have to go west?  Would the road ever turn south?  

Mom assured me it would.  Once we arrived in Lansing, she said, I-69 would curve around the city and we would begin to head south toward Fort Wayne.  Sure enough, about two hours into our trip, I-69 curved around Lansing and we were finally heading in the direction we had been wanting to go!  

My mind was very busy as I drove south for the next few hours.  

Life is often like I-69.  In our lives, we often have a deep desire to go a certain "direction", or to get to a certain "destination", but the route from A to B -- when taken on God's terms -- can defy rationality.  Why would God ask you to head the opposite direction?  And once you made the transition to the "route" He has planned for you, why would He set the course westward?  You're running parallel to the destination.  You are no closer to Point B than you were before!

Or so you thought.

See, my mom chose I-69 because it was the smoothest, least complicated, and most direct way to our destination.  She could have chosen the more common route, which was riddled with changing interstates, heavy traffic congestion, construction, and the stress that comes with navigating through large cities.  She chose I-69 because it was easier and more peaceful, (which she knew would benefit me because I'd never driven to Fort Wayne before). 
All along, we merely stayed the course.  We didn't have to change interstates or drive through congested cities.  We let I-69 take us all the way to our destination.

This is a beautiful picture of how God guides us.  He may lead us onto a road that makes absolutely no sense.  It may be frustrating.  It may lead us into a season of spiritual drought or silence.  It may feel lonely, like a desert.  We're heading west when all we want is to head south! We may begin to doubt God's logic -- which can spiral into doubting His goodness, His character, and His love.  

The world, the flesh, and the devil will tell you that while you're heading west, you are no closer to Point B than you were before.  All the angst, blind faith, and trust in the dark -- it's all a waste. 
But that's wrong.  You are much closer to Point B than you could ever dream!  It may not feel like it now, but if you truly trust God's heart toward you, you will see that the route He's chosen will take you directly to where He wants you to be.  

God's Point B may not be your Point B.  As I drove westward toward Lansing, I drew a comparison of the route to my own life since returning from my trip this summer.  I had to admit to myself that God's Point B might be drastically different than mine, and that He has made no promise to take me to my Point B.  All He has promised is that this road I travel (with my hand in His) will take me directly to where He wants me, wherever that may be. 
With this in mind, the road may keep going west!  It may turn north again, or it may even head back east.  Walk the road by faith and let Him decide which way the path will curve.  It may indeed take the turn you hope for and begin heading in the direction you desire! 

Remember why my mom chose I-69.  She knew that I had never gone this way before and wanted to take me the safest and least complicated way.  She chose I-69 out of compassion and love for me.
When God takes you a route you don't understand, remember that everything He does is motivated out of compassion and love for you!  Everything He gives, everything He takes away, everything He allows, and everything He doesn't allow are all colored by His faithfulness, His compassion, His protection, His mercy, and His LOVE, LOVE, LOVE!
  
While you are on your own I-69, traveling a path you don't understand, striving toward a goal you cannot see, cupping your empty hands, trying to figure out how to hope . . . may I suggest a new prayer to pray?  It is just seven words long, but those seven little words can change your life forever. 

"Father, align my heart with Your will."  

Welcome to I-69!  Trust your Navigator.  Keep driving. 

The Indiana Thunderstorm: A Peek at Elijah Part 2

     "Ask rain from the LORD in the season of the spring rain, from the LORD who makes the storm clouds, and He will give them showers of rain, to everyone the vegetation in the field." -Zechariah 10:1

     At the end of June, my grandparents marked their 50th wedding anniversary, so the whole family gathered in Indiana (24 people under 1 roof!) to celebrate.  It was a blast.  The whole stay had been meticulously planned out in advance, and everything went off without a hitch.  One of the most memorable events of that weekend, however, was one we had absolutely no control over. 

     Around 3pm on the second [extremely hot] day, a few of us made a move to go to a waterpark.  However, as soon as we got onto the main road, rolled down the car windows, and switched on the radio, we heard the National Weather Service issue a severe thunderstorm warning.  The broadcaster described the storm's potentially alarming power and urged residents to seek shelter.  Immediately, sirens began wailing outside (in Indiana, sirens go off for severe thunderstorms as well as tornadoes).  We stopped at a gas station and gazed at the sky, puzzled.  The sun was shining, and the sky was bright blue and flecked with fluffy white clouds.  However, we aired on the side of caution and returned to the house, grumbling that the storm surely wouldn't come now that we'd decided to return.  At home, the adults went online to find a local radar map of the "storm," but the internet began cutting in and out.  When we looked out the windows, the sky had grown dark grey, and most of the family had already gathered on the covered front porch to watch. 

     There was no rain, no lightning, and no thunder.  Just wind.  An unbelievable display of the power of God!  Trees were swaying wildly under the force, branches were being stripped of healthy leaves, and the gravel driveway looked like a mini-version of the Dust Bowl.  Some panicked and sent the little ones down to the basement (I wholeheartedly joined them), but when nothing seemed to happen, we came back up.  The temperature was 20 degrees cooler now, and the wind was dying down.  I must say I was disappointed.  The wind had wreaked havoc on the trees, the lawn, the temperature, and my eyes (had to flush dust and debris out of them -- smart, Jordan, just stand on the porch and watch!).  You'd think we'd at least get a little rain, or at least some thunder and lightning.  

     Silence.  The leaves were still, the air was still, the birds were still. 

     Then it happened.  The clouds unfurled their fury -- it began to pour.  All the cousins dashed out into it, despite thunder and lightning that had come with the rain.  We carried the little ones and ran around, jumped, spun, danced, laughed, and soaked it all in.  The adults filmed us from the safety of the porch.  The rain had come, and it was wonderful.

     The storm got me thinking.  Many times, God will allow things into our lives that wreak havoc and debris, things that shake our world.  It feels like an assault.  It feels cruel.  All we can see is destruction.  You know what I'm talking about; you fill in the blank.  

     Then, silence.  An awful period of nothing . . . a desert.  No end in sight.  No water in sight.  It feels devastating, discouraging, dry.  Maybe we see some small good thing come from it -- after all, the air was 20 degrees cooler after the wind.  But the silence isn't the end.  God is in the silence.  

     1 Kings 19 finds us in a cave on Mount Horeb with a very depressed Elijah.  If you'll recall, this was the guy who had just seen God defeat 450 prophets of Baal with a fiery display of power.  I could go on and on about the significance of Elijah's hasty retreat, but that's not the point of today's blog.  So Elijah's hiding in God's mountain, and God gently asks Elijah what he's doing there.  A very bitter Elijah spouts off an account of how badly he's been treated, how thinks he's the only godly one left, and how his life is in danger.  Sounds like a desert to me!  Elijah seems to be saying, "Hey God, I've been faithful to You -- why haven't You come through for me?"

     "And [the LORD] said, 'Go out and stand on the mount before the LORD.'  And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind.  After the wind an earthquake, but he LORD was not in the earthquake.  And after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire.  And after the fire the sound of a low whisper." -1 Kings 19:11-12

    

     You may be familiar with the last few words as translated: "a still, small voice" or "a gentle, quiet whisper."  Some translations like the NRSV Bible interpret it as "the sound of sheer silence."  This is the definition that impacts me most.  Silence doesn't have any sound, you say?  Have you ever stood in an utterly silent room?  It's crazy.  Silence is deafening.  In our noise-oriented society, silence can be deeply disturbing.  Perhaps for you it is deeply healing.  God is in the silence. 

     My favorite part in the Christian movie Facing the Giants is when Mr. Bridges, a mostly overlooked man who prays for the students at Shiloh Christian High School, visits Grant Taylor, a depressed football coach with a losing season.  

          Mr. Bridges.  "Now Grant, I heard a story about two farmers who desperately needed rain, and both of them prayed for it.  But only one of them went out and prepared his fields to receive it.  Which one trusted God to send the rain?"
          Grant Taylor. "Well, the one who prepared his fields for it."
          Mr. Bridges.  "Which one are you?  God will send the rain when He's ready.  You need to prepare your field to receive it."

      The silence won't last forever.  This desert season is the time we've been given to prepare our fields for rain.  "Sow for yourselves righteousness; reap steadfast love; break up your fallow ground, for it is the time to seek the LORD, that He may come and rain righteousness upon you." -Hosea 10:12

     The best part is . . . God will send the rain.  It's coming!  It might almost be here!  What you have worked for and longed for, that which you have prepared your fields to receive . . . it's coming.  In God's time and in God's way.  It might be a completely different kind of rain than the kind you had in mind.  Why worry?  His ways and thoughts are higher than ours (Isaiah 55:8-9), so we can bank on the fact that His "rain" will always be best, no matter in what form it comes.  

     "So let us know, let us press on to know the LORD.  His going forth is as certain as the dawn; and He will come to us like the rain, like the spring rain watering the earth." -Hosea 6:3

     Drifting in a season of silence?  Prepare your fields for rain, and look up!  It's coming.