From Michelle. September 27, 2012.
Dear friends and family,
Each time I sit down to write to you, I wonder how to put more words to the same thing. The landscape looks the same as it did last month and the month before that. There is no rain on the horizon, and the sun beats down on the desert floor. I wonder, are they not as tired as I am of this place? Surely, every rock has been examined, every patch of shade explored. What more is there to say?
A change has come upon me lately, however, a weariness unlike what I have felt before. It has only recently dawned on me that this shift coincides with the end of our two year marathon. The shift has come almost exactly 26 months after Steve’s accident. What I am finding as I cross the finish line is that our marathon is far from over. In fact, my time frame was all wrong. Months cannot frame this journey, but rather years. I stumble through my artificial ending and look out over the seemingly endless road ahead, and just like that, in year three, two years, two months and two weeks after the accident, I run out of steam. I have come to the end of myself. And it looks different than it did before. What do you do when you come to the end of a race that has taken your all and find you must keep running?
We are in such a rush to get well. But the eternal timeframe requires more patience than comes naturally to us, who dwell so viscerally in months and days and hours. The bible, however, is rife with waiting. Moses and the Israelites wandered around the same patch of dry and inhospitable earth for forty years before reaching the promised land. Sarah waited ninety years to conceive. Jacob waited fourteen years to marry Rachel. The book of Hebrews praises Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, who waited until the end of their days and never saw the fulfillment of what was promised.
Even in our modern context, we are reminded of the imperative of time. Steve and I have been obsessed lately with a documentary series about the American presidents, all of whom faced and surmounted incredible hardship. Of course, the story of Franklin D. Roosevelt was especially personal and moving. FDR took six years off following his paralysis before stepping back into public life. In a four day counseling intensive last year, the counselor said to us, “Of course, it will be ten years before you can make any sense out of this.”
There are many comforting words in the Bible, many verses about love and compassion and rest. But there are other metaphors. Words like “battle” and “armor” are also used to describe our earthly passage. As I have sat with God, I have sensed equal parts comfort and exhortation. The verses that mark this section of road are not the ones I want to see as I stumble past the finish line. They say, “persist.” They say, “keep going.” They say, “do not give up.” My sign posts are as follows:
Galatians 6:9-10: Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers.
Romans 5:2-5: And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.
Habbakuk 3:17-19: Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. The Sovereign Lord is my strength; he makes my feet like the feet of a deer, he enables me to tread on the heights.
To be honest, I am not comforted. My soft spiritual muscles resist this training. I am, however, obedient. So, on days when I have nothing left, I reach down into the dryness of my spirit and offer up my dust and ashes, my rocks and even sometimes only my dirty, empty hands. The Lord receives my paltry offerings with tenderness. He reiterates his promises. He extends his mighty hand. But ultimately, what there is for me to do is steel my shoulders and keep running.
Years can overwhelm. There is a better way to manage the seemingly endless road. It seems, in our broken and temporal state, that we are best equipped to manage the long stretch of years day by day. Do not worry about tomorrow, we are cautioned, for tomorrow will take care of itself. For the Israelites wandering in the desert, provision was measured in daily increments. Each morning the manna came. Whatever was kept beyond 24 hours rotted. Waking and sleeping are the natural brackets to what we can handle. Slow down, my soul. Endure this hour and the next. Run only this short distance.
Some days I am impatient. I do not wait quietly. On those days, this verse from John 16:33 swims up into my spirit: In this world, you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. It is the long view. It is the faith perspective that stretches beyond what we can grasp into the leaping heart of hope. Every now and then, it pays to lift the eyes beyond the daily portion and gaze into that limitless expanse. Both awe and humility can be powerful motivators.
These many scriptures are my manna. Daily I take them in. I put them on like gym clothes and stretch my spirit to their injunctions. At times, I cry out petulantly for rescue and relief. And it will come. In the meantime, however, there is work to be done. Some days, I need to be a soldier, not a child.
In Lamentations 3, David writes an endless list of complaints. He is hard pressed on every side. He is weary beyond reckoning. And yet he ends his lament this way: Yet this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.” The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.
Love,
Michelle