Mile, mile and a half

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We had almost completed our passage through the woods, when we saw two women with a frantic-looking purse-sized dog standing stranded at the side of the trail, searching the GPS on their phones, as obvious as tourists lost on the Champs Elysee holding an enormous map.

They were looking for the "white" trail in the park's confusing network of interwoven paths of many colors.  My husband Bill gave them directions, and when they asked how far, he replied, "Mile, mile and a half."  The women looked greatly relieved.  "Oh, we can do that."

I chuckled.   On so many trails we have hiked through the years, the destination always seems to be coming up in a  "mile, mile and a half," according to Bill.  On a long uphill slog that seems to last forever, those words are not just a measurement of distance, not just practical advice, but a gift of hope. You are not done, but you are going to make it through.  This difficult part of the trail is not going to last forever.  Nor this impossible segment of life.

Despite blisters, heavy backpacks, unanticipated steep slopes, and turns in the trail when you thought it was the end but it was not.  Even then.  Mile, mile and a half, gives hope.  Not a cellophane-thin sparkly wishful thinking kind of hope, but a reality on which you can stake your life.

A reality, because we ourselves at one time or another have been handed hope and received mercy which empowers us to "find grace to help in the time of need." (Hebrews 4. 16) 

Endurance is sticking with it just a little bit longer.  Success has nothing to do with it.  Just not quitting yet.  It is not just believing, but knowing, you have yet another gear. Mile, mile and a half.  That strength from God, which is not our own, then overflows into the lives of every one around us.

You will get through this miry bog, this impossibly steep slope, through the glory of the trees.  And come out, maybe not in a familiar place, but strengthened in the journey.

What Rises to the Surface

 Now faith is the assurance

      of things hoped for,

the conviction of things

                 not seen.

         Hebrews 11. 1

 

For at least 137 years, an image remained hidden under a piece of cardboard.  In preparation for a larger exhibit of Van Gogh's work at the National Galleries of Scotland in Edinburgh this summer, an art restorer at the museum x-rayed Van Gogh's painting, the Head of a Peasant Woman, which he created in 1885. 

As the curator put it, in the x-ray image, "a ghostly face appeared," that had been neither known about or seen before.  It was a self-portrait of the artist himself, hidden on the back of the painting and covered up with cardboard.  Even now, the actual image can only be seen by x-ray.  Because of the many layers of paint and glue, it is extremely difficult to separate the two paintings.

But what a surprise.  The museum had owned the piece since 1960.  Nobody knew it was two paintings and not just one.  

It made me think about the passage in scripture when Daniel focused his heart on God and saw clearly what others could not see.

[The LORD] reveals deep and hidden things;

He knows what is in the darkness,

    and the light dwells with Him.

                     Daniel 2. 22

 

 

Under the portrait of our own lives, what image appears?  What is not just inextricably attached, but what is painted into the narrative of our story?  What has God redeemed?  Is the face of Christ imprinted in who we are and what we do and what we are all about? 

The individual daily elements of God's faithfulness to us are not always recognized by us in our lives, but the pattern of His Presence is evident, His encompassing hand, and His unique fingerprints.  His faithfulness leaves a lasting imprint, always something different that cannot be explained away.  We know even what we cannot see fully.  What is layered in our lives, even what is beyond our sight, always in some way comes to the surface.

God speaks over and over about the visible and invisible, the seen and unseen, all through scripture, because there is a solid different dimension to this life, not just beneath the surface but encompassing eternity.  We may not realize the implications yet, but we can know the God who works in what is immeasurable.

What we love, what we live for, changes us to the core, and a new image gradually emerges, engraved by years of walking with God, spending time in His Word, being changed by worship, praying continually, living faithfully, loving and serving God and others radically, and standing as a strong witness to His steadfast love. 

There may be a lot of chaos on the outside parts.  But God brings order to it from within.  God signs the name of Jesus on it. God redeems what we cannot ever realize. 

When we seek God, our hearts are transformed. He changes our vision.  We see God differently, we see others differently, we see ourselves differently, and we see our circumstances differently.  God brings His perspective to our hearts.  We no longer abide in the finite, but the eternal.  We realize something new that is not apparent on the surface.  We see Him. And we bear His image for His glory.

So we do not lose heart.

Though our outer self is wasting away,

our inner self is being renewed day by day.

For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us

an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison,

as we look not to the things that are seen

     but to the things that are unseen.

For the things that are seen are transient,

but the things that are unseen are eternal.

                       2 Corinthians 4. 16-18

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Switchbacks, gravel roads, and "Oh, that's why that happened"

 

Your way was through the sea,

Your path through the great waters;

    yet Your footprints were unseen.

                             Psalm 77. 19

 

Four days after graduating from college, I received an unexpected phone call that I had moved off a waiting list and was accepted into a graduate program in journalism. This particular program would enable me to get my master's degree in only a year and be able to live at home to save on expenses.  The classes started in three days.

In the course of those studies, I participated in a three-month internship in Washington DC, designed to provide real-life exposure working for a variety of  daily newspapers and radio stations.  Some of my fellow students were appointed to cover well-known senators, congressmen, the Department of Education, Supreme Court, or report on important social issues.  I pulled the short straw and was assigned for my beat to cover, of all things, energy research.   What in the world?

There was nothing I could do, but put my head down, dig in, and do my best, even though it appeared literally a dead-end task.  I gave myself the pep talk: It's just for three months. Sometimes creativity comes in unlikely packages.

I covered solar energy hearings, wrote articles about natural gas consumption, and produced three-part series on such exciting issues as bike pathways (which were in their infancy), insulating homes, nuclear power plants, and oil pipelines.  Woohoo.  It was a piece of a puzzle I was not sure I would ever use.

I graduated during an economic downturn when very few companies were hiring.  I patched together a series of part-time jobs while I sent out resumes and scanned the meager lists of job opportunities.  Seven months later, a former professor called me about a job opportunity at a construction magazine. 

At the interview, the editor appeared uninterested in this quiet twenty-three year old with no real experience.  As our short-lived conversation was drawing to an end, and I was on the precipice of being dismissed, he asked me if I had anything to show him.  In my shyness, I placed on his desk, a notebook stuffed with newspaper clippings of my articles from my internship.

It was like a huge invisible door opened.  I could see it on his face.  He was suddenly very interested for the first time since I walked into his office.  Because unbeknownst to me, this editor had been looking for someone to cover energy conservation and solar development during the ongoing energy crisis.

All those articles that I saw no reason for being, those dead ends, those unpaved roads, those subjects of "why in the world would anyone be interested in this," actually printed my ticket to a job.  And I had no idea when I was in the midst of doing it.  God was guiding me.  And I was not aware of His divine appointments. No one was more surprised than me.  

Because a lot of what we all do in life is unbeknownst to us in its significance.  Even in what appears difficult, out of left field, or in the most ordinary of days, our assignments are sacred to Him.

There are a lot of things that someday on the Other Side of Life will suddenly come into focus, and we will say out loud, "Oh, that's why that happened."  There is nothing random, but all in His design.  Sometimes it's just part of the training and preparing us for something we don't see coming. There are no outlandish parts when it comes to faithfulness.  Nothing God cannot use in profound ways when we follow Him.  

"Trust Me in this."

 

But it is written,

What no eye has seen,

nor ear heard,

nor the heart of man imagined,

what God has prepared for those

            who love Him.

 

              1 Corinthians 2. 9

              Isaiah 64. 4