I am not interested in discussing trial when in moments of respite. When my emotions are light and my thoughts are kind. I’d much rather feel good and discuss what’s been good. But as I've reflected on 2024, I cannot deny that trials have been painted across its canvas. Since June, I have not worked full time. In the six days between our vacation to Tennessee and my trip to visit Hannah, I heard the words, “Due to a shift in strategy...not based on performance...” in my office at home alone, my cheeks burning with embarassment, sadness, anger. Jake thought I was joking when I told him that evening, and all I could do was laugh. As I skimmed through my journals prior to June 6, I saw an iteration of “I cried because of work” multiple times. To then get let go, alongside the other full-time writer--for them to “win” stung. The plan was to get a new job by the end of the summer and quit! That’ll show them! Instead, about a month after a shift in Jake's employment, that Teams call happened and I quickly learned my life was not in my control nearly as much as I thought.
I spent the rest of the year being reminded of that. With extra time on my hands, I finally finished the Old Testament. Over and over again, I underlined “I am the Lord,” in Ezekiel and was reminded that I am simply the clay in our Potter’s hands, as Jeremiah had spoken of. I’m not in control. I don’t know what’s best. I’m not always right. I don’t always get what I want, nor do I even deserve to.
At some point last summer, I heard an interview with Rita Springer, who said that Brooke Ligertwood, prior to co-writing the song, Trials of Many Kinds, asked Rita, “Have you asked God to partner with you [in suffering]?” You’re joking, right? The balm to my spirit is that He would hide me in His shelter in the day of trouble, conceal me under the cover of His tent, provide me refuge in the shadow of His wings…to take me out of the suffering, not sit in it with me!
What that question made me realize is that I wanted to avoid all trials of many kinds. Whisk me away from trouble, God! Let’s go back to the pattern where I only leave a job once I have a higher-paying one! I hadn’t stopped to wonder, what if this plea is in direct opposition to His plan for my life? What if there’s a cup I’m meant to drink? A night I’m meant to lie awake, crying out to Him? A cross I’m meant to carry?
In Exodus 13, it says, “God did not lead them by way of the land of the Philistines, although that was near. For God said, ‘Lest the people change their minds when they see war and return to Egypt.’ But God led the people around by the way of the wilderness toward the Red Sea.” That is how last year felt. My version of "by way of the land of the Philistines" would have included not being let go, or continuing to have prayers go unanswered. There were more tears, more arguments, more saying no to spur-of-the-moment purchases and meals out. Nothing compared to war or the most indirect route a person could walk to get to Deuteronomy 34, but still—when do I get to the part where He delivers me and puts everything back together?? But then I think…if they had walked along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea (which would have likely taken less than a month) they wouldn’t have experienced bitter water made sweet, the wall of Sea standing in submission to its Creator, a quail-covered camp in time for dinner…
I don’t want to grumble. I don’t want to yearn for Egypt like those in Numbers 14 or hundreds of years later in Jeremiah 42. I don’t want to miss God’s version of quail in my life. So I had longer quiet times, held brand-new babies, baked bread, sat in awe at the skill of live musicians, canned homemade tomato sauce with tomatoes from our garden, laughed with friends and their children, hosted holiday meals, escaped to the mountains, and further made our house a home. & through it all, Jake and I have caught glimpses of the Promised Land He has in store for our family. Experienced the hope and fulfillment that comes with living His way, not ours.
It didn’t always go the way I wanted. Still hasn’t. I expect this journey to last even longer than 40 years. I’ll continue to need help along the way. Other women to remind me I’m not alone in my struggles. The lyrics of Soon by Brooke Ligertwood, which became my #1 song on Spotify. Stories of sisterhood, slowness, softness, and strength. New friends, while healing from lost ones. The mercy my husband offers me time and time again. The time and space to examine the ugliness in my own heart and finally submit to His supremacy. The lesson of rejoicing in sufferings, to produce endurance, character, and hope.
It is good for me that He did not take me by way of the land of the Philistines. It would have made too much sense to my comfort-seeking brain. I would not be who I am, nor would my marriage be where it is, if He had. He knew there would be trial. He knew I’d be stubborn. But to stick by His side through war, wilderness, and waves is better than it all. He is leading me in my waiting, accompanied by the wisdom of His prophets and my loved ones.
I thought about not finishing what was just a collection of bullet points. Not posting what has now become too long for an Instagram caption. Nobody needs yet another person’s reflection on the past year, especially eight days late. But then I remember Michael. The boy in Tanzania that my friend Cass and I have been sponsoring since 2017. In his most recent letter, he said, “We are told to preach the Gospel in all nations. I thank God for what He has done for me. I have a testimony about my father when he got into a motorbike accident. My father can now walk.” So here is my testimony. I was let go from my job and He has provided for me and my husband. Financially and relationally, with heightened clarity for our future. He is still beside me and ahead of me. I know He is able. And I pray that if He’s willing, He would answer my prayers this year. & if not, I’m still not going back to Egypt.
