I suppose it's time to mull over my year in sentimentality and nostalgia, time to plan and dream of the adventures that await. In past years I have anticipated the coming year with either hope and optimism or let the midnight bring darkness and fear.
This year should have been the most adventurous. We went on our honeymoon to Boston, we hiked up a mountain, we started over and moved to my favorite state, we began the ministry we feel God has called us to do, we shared the Gospel more than ever, we watched Him provide for us and lead us into what our next steps of faith are.
And all of that felt like a adventure, yes. But I'm not sure true adventures really feel like adventures while we're in them. The world tells us that adventuring is visiting a new city or starting a new job or a new hobby or a new relationship, but it doesn't tell us the angst that is inevitably laced throughout every true adventure. And what's up with this word? Why does everything have to be an adventure now? My husband and I spent 19 months of our lives support raising, living in 3 different cities, never fully unpacked, annoyed by roommates and parents and lack of privacy, crying silently in our little room so family couldn't hear, and friends would say "What an adventure!" and I nodded with a polite smile, as I considered it hell. But my God says suffering-not adventure- is our heart's greatest ally. To lose ourselves, to endure, to persevere, to have faith, to confront the anxiety that trembled in my heart with the fierce sovereignty of my Savior, to wrestle with sin that felt like it would never leave, the world does not bestow crowns for such experiences.
The only thing our world does more than start over is cancel commitments. So this year, I refuse to start over, because the reality is that I will carry these sins in my heart with me until they are dealt with. The reality is that my roles as wife and missionary and daughter and friend will not change, but perhaps I can do them better. I will not abandon previous commitments, I will not seek spiritual highs to keep me going; I will seek the Lord my God. I will allow Him to make me new, I will allow Him to overcome me. And I will rest in Him as His Spirit accomplishes this for me.
Names have significant meaning to me, and if I ever get to name a child, I will not do so without extended prayer and thought. My middle name is Faith, and I have noticed a theme in my first 25 years of life: seeing God prove Himself faithful. Doubt crept in, but He came through. Anxiety plagued me, but He sustained. I prayed over and wrestled with sin, and He had victory. But I'm feeling the theme shift for this next part of my life: will I remain faithful to Him? He is faithful, He has proven it and will continue to, there is no question of that anymore. But will I remain faithful when my task is mundane and the results are low and success is unmeasurable? Will I practice steadfastness, trusting Him to make all things new when they all feel old? Will I stand beside those I love with loyalty and devotion? Will I seek my Father when my feelings are lagging far behind? Will I practice generosity though I'm wishing others would be more generous to us?
While the world itches for the new, sacrificing devotion and loyalty and perseverance, I pray I would practice faithfulness, and seek my thrilling Father over a fleeting adventure.
This year should have been the most adventurous. We went on our honeymoon to Boston, we hiked up a mountain, we started over and moved to my favorite state, we began the ministry we feel God has called us to do, we shared the Gospel more than ever, we watched Him provide for us and lead us into what our next steps of faith are.
And all of that felt like a adventure, yes. But I'm not sure true adventures really feel like adventures while we're in them. The world tells us that adventuring is visiting a new city or starting a new job or a new hobby or a new relationship, but it doesn't tell us the angst that is inevitably laced throughout every true adventure. And what's up with this word? Why does everything have to be an adventure now? My husband and I spent 19 months of our lives support raising, living in 3 different cities, never fully unpacked, annoyed by roommates and parents and lack of privacy, crying silently in our little room so family couldn't hear, and friends would say "What an adventure!" and I nodded with a polite smile, as I considered it hell. But my God says suffering-not adventure- is our heart's greatest ally. To lose ourselves, to endure, to persevere, to have faith, to confront the anxiety that trembled in my heart with the fierce sovereignty of my Savior, to wrestle with sin that felt like it would never leave, the world does not bestow crowns for such experiences.
The only thing our world does more than start over is cancel commitments. So this year, I refuse to start over, because the reality is that I will carry these sins in my heart with me until they are dealt with. The reality is that my roles as wife and missionary and daughter and friend will not change, but perhaps I can do them better. I will not abandon previous commitments, I will not seek spiritual highs to keep me going; I will seek the Lord my God. I will allow Him to make me new, I will allow Him to overcome me. And I will rest in Him as His Spirit accomplishes this for me.
Names have significant meaning to me, and if I ever get to name a child, I will not do so without extended prayer and thought. My middle name is Faith, and I have noticed a theme in my first 25 years of life: seeing God prove Himself faithful. Doubt crept in, but He came through. Anxiety plagued me, but He sustained. I prayed over and wrestled with sin, and He had victory. But I'm feeling the theme shift for this next part of my life: will I remain faithful to Him? He is faithful, He has proven it and will continue to, there is no question of that anymore. But will I remain faithful when my task is mundane and the results are low and success is unmeasurable? Will I practice steadfastness, trusting Him to make all things new when they all feel old? Will I stand beside those I love with loyalty and devotion? Will I seek my Father when my feelings are lagging far behind? Will I practice generosity though I'm wishing others would be more generous to us?
While the world itches for the new, sacrificing devotion and loyalty and perseverance, I pray I would practice faithfulness, and seek my thrilling Father over a fleeting adventure.
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