I’m sitting criss-cross-applesauce. On a bed. In a basement. In the home of a friend I met in my computer. In a state I had never stepped foot in before yesterday.
And it’s not weird.
In fact, I think it was totally ordained by God.
Actually, no thinking. I just know.
Because to say I have been tired is like saying the ocean is wet. I was wearing weak all over my body; and my words, written or not, were dripping with fatigue.
But our Gem of a God knows that every desert needs an oasis.
About a month ago, I was talking with my dear friend that lived in my laptop, and both of us rather simultaneously snarked off about a massive need to just hug the other one’s neck. About two hours later, God played travel agent and gifted us the opportunity.
I wasn’t exceptionally exhausted then. Understandably, the navigation process of this road is complicated and hard, but, at that particular time, I was dealing and in a spot where the dealing was dealable. I was thrilled about meeting my friend and the opportunity, but never realized that it was going to be an execution of sovereignty.
Just this past week, however, my desires to even continue trudging on the restoration road were waning. And waning fast. I was not only believing lies in my head, I had resorted to making up my own. I felt like walls were closing in on me; the pressure was too heavy; and I was suffocating. And I had almost convinced myself that escaping via my own route was going to be my rescue.
The sand dunes of my desert were getting too high, too deep, and too hot; I was parched; and my camel had died 4 miles back.
And then, I boarded a plane. To meet a virtual stranger. And I felt like I was going to just collapse under the weight of a really meaty mirage.
Because I knew that everything was right and good and God-given about this trip, yet I couldn’t understand it.
My heart was aching for and missing my kids; self-doubt and self-worth were taunting me; and I felt, plain and simple, out of control. I had fought for so many months to maintain control of what particle of my planet that I could, and, with one plane ride away from absolutely everything familiar, I felt like I would somehow lose some ground that I had covered. Sandy ground, yet it was still ground.
The vision was of an exciting fun-filled trip, yet as the pressure built last week, I felt almost a sense of fear that it would be ripped from my hands. That good things don’t happen to girls like me anymore….obviously, look at my marriage.
Lies. All lies.
I’m telling you, not a pretty place to find yourself. Staring down the eyes of a loaded double barrel shotgun of doubt and merciless stupidity.
But, God knew better.
Despite my attempts to inadvertently forget His hugeness, He has provided palm trees and fresh pools that are very much real. No mirage in tow. And rest and refreshment have been so sweet.
My friend just so happens to be even more precious in person than she is in Times New Roman font. She’s funny and honest and transparent and she makes me laugh. And think. And want to be a better everything.
Her kids are beautiful and witty and charming; and her husband is so gracious and generous to put up with all my nonsense.
And it’s been so good for my soul.
Yes, to make a new in-skin friend. But, also, to just be away. Far far away. Away from all the abnormality that is my new normal.
He knew I would need this. And He knew 4 weeks ago that I needed it today. And so He made it so.
God gave the Israelites the oasis of Elim (Exodus 15:27).
And God gave me a basement bed. In Ohio.
True to Your word, You let me catch my breath…. –Psalm 23:3 (MSG)