‘Tis the Season, The First Blog
I find myself the past few weeks savoring each page of one of those rare books that that has the ability to be a gentle chisel in the recesses of the soul. Its qualities remind me of a movie I saw years back and was impressed with the many different angles and layers the movie possessed, Mona Lisa Smile, for it seemed to reach a vast audience, but also speak to each demographic of the female audience. I find that same quality of different angles and layers in a beautifully written book, Anonymous, Jesus’ hidden years … and yours by Alicia Britt Chole.
“Abundance may make us feel more productive, but perhaps emptiness has greater power to strengthen our souls. In spiritual winters, our fullness is thinned so that, undistracted by our giftings, we can focus upon our character.”
This portion from the book reminds me of another thought from Hinds’ Feet in High Places shared in Music in Worship class in my undergraduate studies, “In the valley, he restores my soul”. It hung on my wall right up with a poster of a path with a fork in the road, “Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God” while finishing my undergraduate studies and enjoying serving as the assistant dorm pastor.
Three years ago, in the midst of trying to make sense of our son’s diagnosis, I felt the Lord encouraging me that that year would be a year of strengthening the foundation and wrote those words as a remembrance. For the last three and a half years, that season of strengthening was intertwined with grieving the hopes of what I believed for our son. I said “no” to a plethora of opportunities and roles in order to keep the germinating cocoon of interventions for him strong while walking through the valley of grief. I had passed through that valley previously, but this time, it took on a new character quality and seemed to leave a more ingrained imprint from having been there. Thinking if there were such a place as this during that time, it would have truly ministered to my soul. It seems that walk is oft alone as one only comes across a handful of people who “get it” because they have also found themselves on a unanticipated journey as well.
I found myself at “late night mom university” scouring scientific journal articles and corresponding with some of the words greatest scientists as medical doctors could give no answers as to why our son who was born healthy and thriving was diagnosed with chronic encephalopathy and lost the ability to clearly articulate and pronounce speech and had multiple completely normal genetics tests.
However, the last seven months have been sprinkled with specific encouragement to my heart to begin to step out again in a new assignment with a new fortitude. This is where I have come to meet you. May we meet in this peaceful place with a peaceful pace and share hope, encouragement, and a place to dream anew!
