WILDLY GATHERING TESTIMONY

There are times when life can be too fast paced, speeding past our beating hearts. And I had learnt some months earlier in my waiting, that the only way to live life is slow enough to take in moments. Because that's what life is - a string of moments.

I believed and bound that piece of wisdom round my neck. Until God plonked me in the middle of the advertising world where everything is an emergency and your days are not your own.

So there I was - unschooled to the rules and heart racing. Each morning would have me take a deep breathe when I walked into the office and then breathe out when I left. I was leaving work, yes, but never quite leaving the office. Somehow, I became the antelope that so desperately wants to lazily enjoy grass but panics at the slightest flutter or sound. And I was that way for a little close to a month.

Needless to say, it was hard to enjoy work. Life itself felt like a chore every waking and sleeping moment. I tried to talk about it with friends or anyone, but words... Words would fail me.

Me who had been told by God that I was not cheated into the place I was in, but that I was chosen. And I was reminded of this by brethren often and a long silence would ensue after. Chosen. All it would take was one look at my circumstance and what everyone was saying about me in light of it to fold in the palm of the world. Folded. Foetal. Small. I forgot how strong I am and would fight the pressures of work with weak bleeding fists. And I would fail. Everyday.

I was inconsolable. Knowing truth. Binding it around my neck but crippled by a raging fear storming deep inside of me because of how things looked like.

And that's always tough. When you know truth but don't seem to know how well to express it through you. That's bondage. And I was living bound for weeks.

But this wonderful spring morning, rain so fresh on the ground and clouds canopying above the sky, I heard God tell me that Eden is not a place but a person. That if one of us is missing, there's no Eden. And I nodded, saying, "That's true," as I packed my lunch and begun my long walk to the bus stop, not slowing down enough to realize what He meant.

But the walk was different. God pulled and tore at the mask on my heart. Too tired to fight, I wept. Talking. Walking. Weeping silently melting the hurt within.

He reminded me of every song He put in my heart so deep and high enough to gush out of me. That they were reservoirs for moments like this. Songs about how He will be near to guide me in my darkest hour. Songs about how He's conquered all and that I should believe. Songs about how no matter where I am or go, that there's testimony. Songs about how the only thing that matters is just to be close.

And I wept. When I let myself break in His presence (an instruction I honoured 4 days too late) I walked back into an Eden that I can carry with me. Because Eden is a person. God with us. Dwelling with and in us. Omni-accessible.

And oh how I needed Him today. You see, today was the hardest day at work but I had peace. Peace who is a Person - Christ. And I was calm. There were many mistakes, failures, demands that were unavoidably unmet but I was calm and at peace. Almost like I was still in bed wrapped around a blanket in this cold. And I loved it. I love it.

It's taken much time, but I realize (perceive, know and affirm truly) that God placing me where He has is not 'plonking' but positioning. He is firmly setting me in something too big to grasp right now but i'm ok, at rest and swaddled in Him. And I like it here. Moved in for keeps. There was always a place reserved for me. And there is one for you too. Always.

So this is me wildly gathering all the testimony I was too blind to see lying around me like low hanging fruit. Guess all I had to do was reach out.

* Thank You God for a job that is bigger than me - to grow me
* Thank You God for the best colleagues and bosses. Their hearts... It's hard not to love them
* Thank You God for family that has been standing with me while I was shortsighted and squinting at the big picture and David, who had gone before me, walking with me
* Thank You that this job has the makings of calling out authority and excellence in me
* Thank You because You never give raw deals if only we keep quiet enough to listen to Your heart
* Thank You because You know it all, and for all the right reasons

Love,
Your Daughter who's learning Your wonderful Heart

Love and purpose is for the brave

PS: This will be a long emotional (it will incite different emotions) post. I mean well. In every way, I do. The choice to read and heed is yours. Very well...

When I got into a relationship early this year, the conversations that were happening around me with the girls I was hanging with were just... It was good I was silent.

                                

The girls would give me that squinty look that says, "You are a brave, brave, brave soul to say yes to be in a relationship with him." And i'd be lying if i said it didn't sting me. It did. But I forgive you.

But here's why: The girls were talking about the kind of men they would want to get married to or be in a relationship with. Most of the generic answers were that he has to be tall, buff (definitely well built) and i'm sure though it was never vocalized, a number of them probably muttered rich under their breath. But definitely not any of the men that were around them at the moment, that is: short, chubby, skinny, younger than me or immature (i believe was mentioned) and maybe, just maybe someone who is a student (i sense familiarity and a lack of discernment of the men around them)

And they went on to describe just how brave I was because those were the very things they wouldn't sign up for. If brave is choosing purpose over shortsighted imagination, then i'm it!

I don't think some ladies are single because they haven't met the right guy. I think it's because if you knew who God has in mind you would straight on reject him and miss out on purpose a.k.a you still have an aspect of immaturity in you. Purpose is never far away.

You see, a lot of us girls will miss it if we're stuck and hellbent on shallow irrelevant particulars of the men to get married to.

Brief background >>>

2012 for me was a year of healing from a lot, a lot, as in A LOT, of things. I wasn't ready for a relationship because I was in pain and healing from my past. One conversation with my friend Marie led us to talk about the kind of guy we would want to marry and this was my response: Someone who will love me, who will stay (committed guy) someone who won't lie to me, and someone keen on their relationship with God (spiritually mature or growing to it) No physicals or other qualities, she asked. No. Not coz I was awesome. I've just always been open and thought that way. In the past I had dated short, tall, younger, chubby, buff, brown, dark, all sortsa tribes, I was never choosy. That's just how i've been.

So I stayed single through 2012 and kept turning down the few guys that showed interest. Why? I wasn't ready yet. Then 2013 God just turns it all around and then boom, I agree to be in a relationship (coz He had been leading me to warm up to a good friend of mine and now boyfriend)

In my head, I was doubting that i was ready. I mean, I was warming up to the idea of being in a relationship, the how and whom was what I asked God to fill. And so He did. And both David (my boyfriend) and I said yes.

And then the brave stares and the questions.

The girls: "You don't mind that he has a bit of a tummy?" (My nicer rendition)

Me: No. Not really.

The girls: I dunno if i'd be ok with someone who has a big 'tumbo'.

Me: *nods and smiles awkwardly*

Because in all honesty, my tummy ain't flat either way!! And he's hot to me.

Movies and TV are killing this generation! People want to get married to a prize and fail to consider whether they are also a prize to the guy anyway. I'm wrong? Ok then, why? Why does he have to be tall, and buff and working (substituted with loaded)? Is it so that others can envy you or be jealous of you? Think about it honestly.

Because many people are missing out on purpose and God's will because of a shallow checklist they wrote down inspired by Hollywood chick flicks.

I'm not trying to rubbish the tall, buff, loaded guy. No way. He worked to get there and kudos for that. And, he might just as well be God's will for you. Not because of his looks remember, but because of the life you are to build together in light of the purpose of God over both of your lives.

And anyway, who said that broad shoulders are what carry and sustain a marriage? It's God and how a man carries you and your family in the spirit.

But if you've discounted everyone else for a particular looking guy such that if another guy that is God's will and in line with His purpose for your life is brought to the picture it's a deal breaker because he doesn't fit in your checklist, then I feel very sorry for you.

Because it is God who packages purpose. You see, when God tells you He's heard your prayers and His desire, will and purpose is for you to be with so and so (insert name), He's not making a suggestion. He's not a match maker that will parade different men to you so that you pick whoever is to your liking. He is God. His ways are higher than ours and He's seen the end from the beginning. He is saying, "In light of My purpose and My will for your life and your future, this is whom I have found suitable for you." And what should follow this grace from God is gratitude. Not disappointment.

That's why many times when you dream about getting married or being in a relationship, the person in the dream tends to be headless (as in you can't see their face no matter how hard you try) It's because the person you marry/get married to is not necessarily a particular person but an expression of the eternal purpose of God over your life/lives. My friend Justin helped elucidate that once. Thanks Justo.

And I repeat this again, there may be other reasons God has not ushered you into a divine relationship but this may be one of them: the fact that you have shallow expectations of the kind of person you should be with.

Here's the thing, the Israelites could have been in the desert for 1 year rather than 40 years if they would have been prepared mentally and spiritually for Canaan. It's just that it took them 40 years and even then, the older generation died because they were stubborn and just weren't getting it.

It's not that God was mean and vindictive and trying to teach the Israelites a lesson. If anything, 40 years was God being patient and gracious toward them. He'd have been stoked if they took 3 weeks. He would. God really would have been excited.

It's a principle of exiting and entering. You need to exit right (leave those things behind - attitudes, mindsets, baggage) before you enter right. And your willingness to obey and incline to the voice of God determines how long it takes you to exit before you enter. It's all you really.

Also, not to rubbish the fact that God does honour some or all your desires.

Growing up, I loved the idea of getting married soon after Uni to a guy I met at Uni, like my folks did. I loved the thought of building a life together from scratch straight out of Uni, like my folks did. Let's just say i was inspired by my parents' story. And when in 2012 I thought all hope toward that was lost (to the point that I got excited about meeting and growing in love with someone I would get to know), in 2013 God revived a dead hope with someone I had thought was lost to me (as in i had humanly burned every bridge towards us ever being together. Haha!)

And truly, David is my favourite 2013 gift from God to me. He's all the man I need. He is.

What i've been trying to say in this long post (that many will not comment on or like which is perfect to me) is that we should let go of Hollywood and Hallmark and all those shallow standards we cling to as the way to go. Let God lead you to someone right for you as He sees best and He might surprise you. Reality may just as well be better than the utopia you were hellbent on getting.

And the truth is: love and purpose is for the brave who choose to obey God.

That is all.

LOVE IS LAYING DOWN

There are no standing lovers. None. 

Love is in the laying down of self, of agendas, 

thoughts, ambitions and everything in between for another 

~ Ann Voskamp ~ 

(paraphrased)

Loving, laying down is a voluntary act. So you want to love as Christ loved the church? It's an act. It's a risk. It will take all of you. But it'll be worth it.

John 10:11

"I am the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd risks and lays down His [own] life for the sheep."

John 10:18 part 1

"No one takes it away from Me. On the contrary, I lay it down voluntarily. [I put it from Myself.]"

We've romanticized the very essence of loving someone as Christ loved the church. I hear it mentioned when men tell their girlfriend's of their commitment to them and in people's vows. And lately, I can't help but laugh because many don't realize it is a vow. And God honours those. He doesn't forget those. And for words spoken to "sound deeply committed" without understanding of the true essence of it, God begins to burrow hearts for depth and understanding. And my, my! You bleed those words into being. You asked for it. No one forced your hand into speaking it.

Love is stripping down to your bare minimums, fastening a servant's towel around your waist and washing feet (John 13:4-5) Isn't it funny that loving is humbling - the very doing of it. Because many times we are quick to speak but it's the doing or lack of that exposes us. And Peter, speaking rashly on that day (John 13:37), paid a hefty price for his truthful promise to Christ later by dying a painful death. Risky. Willingly. Voluntarily. As Christ laid down His life.

Leave alone men to their wives (but still, Jesus so desires it), would you lay down your life for brethren at church? What of brethren that you've never met? I'm not trying to be dramatic. This is not Sparta. But would you gladly inconvenience yourself for the ease, comfort and wellbeing of another? Tough. Makes blood and guts look easy. But this is how they shall know that we are His - when we love one another and serve one another (John 13:14-15, 1 John 3:16) It is our obligation to each other as brethren.

But boy, does the church love to lead! Wooh! We looooooove the front-lines. We love the choir, but we especially love the men of the collar. We love the thought of one day getting to sit at the front centre of the church but we forget that the position we are wishing for is a greater place to carry others, to lift and wash with prayers, to shepherd (John 13:3-4) It's responsibility and there's a price you have to pay for it. It's not solely about holding the mic and speaking wisdom and truth and prophecy. That's just him/her sharing their downloads from their back-room with God. The real work is in the prayer closet. It's all sweat, long days and late nights yielding and covering a people that God has called to be equipped for greater works than these (John 14:12)

Greater works... There's some work involved. And it's outside of your comfort zone. It calls for laying down to serve. For kneeling. For stripping. And there are no superstars in the kingdom of God. None. Only sons with a serving heart.

It's true: It will take all of you. But my God! It's worth it.

Everything is beautiful here

There are times you know you should burst out crying. Times when you're fighting tears as they stain the white of your eye because it's not a good time, they're people here, it's not dark yet. There's always a reason to cover, but when tears don't go out they dive in deep. And you can feel your heart getting heavy, insides too full tinged with pain it wants to burst right out the seams. So you fight it. You cover it. But your eyes betray you. And you watch your heart start to sink. And you walk away knowing very well it is a matter to be cried out and laid bare before God, but you don't want anyone asking questions. Not before you spill everything before Him. You've done it too many times before. And your eyes are still swollen red from yesterday. But you do it anyway hoping you'll get cried out someday. Someday... Does it ever come?

That was this morning for me. David and I were helping my mum edit, form and shape her online career coaching questions and she was using us to test it out and know what needed stitching and hammering. We've done it before. The last time I told her no but she begged me to, so I did. And I skated around my answers because it's a sore topic, and she should know better. This time, I cracked wide open and I went all samurai and swords on defense. Obviously, that didn't go well. And as I watched the conversation unfold before me, I knew the moment had burned itself in a wounded part of me that's still healing.

There's no easy way to say this: I'm not ok, but i'm fine. I've touched on most of it here so it wouldn't be that hard to put the pieces together. And it's partly the reason why I haven't blogged for a while. The greater part actually. I have days where I think, "This is it! I climbed right out of whatever this place is coz i've figured it out," only to find that there's still another layer peeling off me. And i've told Him how it drains me. How i'm afraid of spiraling. Everyday.

I'm in a better head space (and heart space) now, but July was a month of throwing hands up and flat out giving up. I was even questioning the point of life itself. I wasn't "changing the world" or doing anything meaningful so why was I still alive? I was not close to suicidal. Far from that. But I lost my connection to the world and life itself though I still lived. Everyday felt like all I was doing was breathing in air and breathing out. I'm trying to put it into words guys. I haven't even scratched the surface of my heart open enough yet so please, don't make assumptions. July had me poured out with still so much to empty. So I told God since I don't know what to do, i'll not do anything until I can't not do. I don't know if that makes sense.

The truth is, I don't know what to do with my life. I don't. There's no clarity or anything really. Some funk, huh? And my God I have tried. I've sent out CVs to magazine houses, newspapers, or anything that seemed within my scope of doing, but nothing. In all honesty, I wasn't that keen on much going through because I questioned my ability to deliver on the job (if I get it) because a bigger part of me was still wrecked and wounded. As for a solo thing, I have no clue what it would be and no juice anyway to do it. Sure, i can sing, write, and I have brilliant ideas but there's no wind under their wings for them to take flight.

So i've just been in a state of existence. It was worse in the first 3 weeks of July, but God didn't let me fall off the ledge. Of course I could listen to the endless questions and judgements hanging in the air, and I know at some point, they won't pierce me as deep as they do now.

I could say a lot more, really, but i've said enough. A godsend friend of mine, Mary, sent me a link to a youtube video of Steffani Frizell Gretzinger preaching, and it was such healing. It stilled me even though I cried calm tears and laughed out loud at some of her jokes. There's one thing she said I will carry with the me all the days of my life - I don't have to be ok or have it all figured out. I just have to be close (to God).

I just have to abide. To have myself gelled in Him. Just to be close. And in this place i'm in, I know and cherish Him as a hiding place. As a lover. A Father. A friend. A confidant. There's no greater substitute for what He is to me.

And this I know now more than ever: Everything is beautiful here.

In Need of Filling: Song of the desert

Dear ones, I am aching. I'm desperately sick and tired; lost in what seems like a perpetual longing. And I am fainting. I've forgotten the taste of water. This wasteland i'm in sucks up the slightest trace of water before it finds way through the spaces in me.

I've been walking for miles on end, parched and thirsty and crawling on days when the heat is unbearable. Each day is hot. Each day is unbearable. I'm weak from dragging my withered flesh over sand dunes. It's getting harder to breathe. Still I push on.

Didn't He promise to lift me up and never leave me thirsty whenever i'm weak, lost and searching?

Isaiah 41:18

"I will open rivers on the bare heights, and fountains in the midst of the valleys; I will make the wilderness a pool of water, and the dry land springs of water."

Be strong heart of mine. Don't give up. Be strong heart of mine. Don't give up. Be strong heart of mine. Don't give up.

Seek Him.

My masks have wasted away. My face is lined with desperation. Words fail me. Food leaves me hollow than before. I am cavernous and panting. Nothing else will do.

But didn't He promise?

Isaiah 43:19

"Behold, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs forth; do you not perceive and know it and will you not give heed to it? I will even make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert."

I'm thirsty and I need filling.

Because the ocean is a desert that drowned. And this wasteland i'm in is in desperate need for water.

Treasures in the wilderness

There are places we take ourselves to heal. Places that God leads us to though we don't realize. Theirs was such a story. A story that always seemed to have her running toward her destiny.

It all began when the promise seemed to tarry. Her mistress, Sarai, was barren and in desperate need for a child. And desperate needs beget desperate decisions - some hasty and regrettable to the myopic eye. So when asked to lay with Abram, Sarai's husband, so that she may bear him a child, Hagar willingly obliged.

She became pregnant. And as her belly swelled, so did her contempt and despise for her mistress. She had forgotten that she was first a maid, then a secondary wife, but wasn't she the one with child? Sarai could have none of it so she troubled her and afflicted her till she was forced to flee.

And she ran as far into the wilderness as her swollen legs could carry her only stopping by a spring for rest and to cool her parched throat. Then the Angel of the Lord appeared to her and spoke the very words she was running from.

"Go back to your mistress and [humbly] submit to her control."

Return? To Sarai? His words shook her. Then He added:

"I will multiply your descendants exceedingly, so that they shall not be numbered for multitude. See now, you are with child and shall bear a son, and shall call his name Ishmael [God hears], because the Lord has heard and paid attention to your affliction. And he [Ishmael] will be as a wild ass among men; his hand will be against every man and every man’s hand against him, and he will live to the east and on the borders of all his kinsmen." (Genesis 16)

Yes. Her painful exit from her mistress' house, though justified, was hasty. She now realized that. The wilderness was no place for a weak and pregnant woman also carrying a promise. That's what Ishmael, the tiny one forming in her, was. A promise. For she had looked upon the face of the One who sees and heard His purposes and designs for her through her unborn. And every time she would look upon his face, she would remember that the Lord hears. So she returned to her mistress and Ishmael was born.

Many years passed by. The same God that visited her changed the names of her master and mistress, for they were no longer Abram and Sarai, but Abraham and Sarah. Even so, God's promise to give Abraham a son through Sarah, was fulfilled and Isaac was born. And both Ishmael and Isaac grew together.

Then came the fateful day when Sarah saw Ishmael, with the folly of a 17 year old boy, mock Isaac, her 3 year old son that she was weaning. She went to Abraham, again, complaining that he send Hagar and Ishmael away. It grieved him, but he complied; only because God told him to and because He reminded Him of His promise to make Ishmael into a great nation (Genesis 17:20, 21:13)

Oh how history repeats itself! There she was again, gathering herself and her son leaving, this time for good. All she had with her, was the bottle of water and bread that Abraham gave her. So she wandered on aimlessly and lost her way in the wilderness of Beersheba.

When the water in the bottle was all gone, she left her son lying under a shrub and sat a good way off that she may not see him dying. The boy wept and she could hear him from a distance. She wept along with him. All hope was lost. But God heard the boy's cry and called to her. He had heard Ishmael's cry, and He reminded her of His intention to make Him a great nation. Then He opened up her eyes and she saw a well and filled the empty bottle with water that Ishmael might drink of it. And they were strong again; not only because they finally had water to drink, but because of His word and promise to them. So they lived out their days in the wilderness, the very place God had destined them to thrive (Genesis 21:1-21)

The story of Hagar and Ishmael is one of divine sustenance. It's a story that reminds us that man does not live on bread alone but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord. Yes. And how His promises are YES and AMEN.

And this echoes as I read their story: that there is a fruitfulness awaiting you in the land of your affliction.

When you think of a desert or wilderness, you're unlikely to picture shiny happy people laughing as they cool their feet in large pools of water. Or places teeming with life and animals. What comes to mind is tiny shrubs and sand dunes that stretch as far as the eye can see. And sand storms. Many, many sand storms. That's what I see. Then it hit me...

Isn't this our view of process?

Don't we see it as nothingness that stretches on for months?

Don't we picture ourselves fighting for life in the desert - a place stinking of death and rot?

Don't we find it to be the least enjoyable experience ordained of God?

Even more, don't we think of it as a punishment?

And if we don't, don't we often doubt that it is of God?

If only God could open our eyes that we see process through His eyes. That's what God had to do for Hagar.

She had been chased away from her only semblance to a home into the wilderness to begin life anew carrying nothing but the satchel of bread and bottle of water Abraham had sent her away with. As it turns out, it was not enough - man can only get you so far. She left Ishmael afar, afraid to watch him die because they were out of water and were running out of bread. Even more, they had no idea where they were and they had gotten lost severally as the wilderness stretched on for miles. She was resigned to fate and the very thing on her mind was their pending death. Not the promises of God.

Then He spoke to her, reminded her of His promise and caused her eyes to open - and she saw a well of water. And she drew from it and was strengthened.

Could it be that there was a well right where they were all that time?

Had their fatigue and resignment to fate caused them to be blinded to their troubles at the time and not the promise?

If only we remembered: that where God leads us to, there is grace and provision.

That is the wisdom that God so desires of us. That we be sensitive to His Spirit to the extent that whenever we experience something, be it good or bad, that we are able to perceive Christ within the experience and see Him exalted in it. Yes. Even in our sufferings and challenges!

Yet we live life thinking some of our circumstances catch Him unaware. That He is surprised when we go through some things when in fact, we're the ones that don't realize His soft Hand choreographing and ordering every circumstance in our lives. And His soft nudging leading us into the desert.

There is a well (divine sustenance as water is life) in every wilderness and desert experience we face. Because really, the desert or wilderness is a place of separation and spiritual heightening. It is a place of spiritual thriving where our human senses are numbed that our spirit man may thrive and our inner man be strengthened.

And just like Jesus expects us to bear fruit in and out of season (Matthew 21:18-20), being in the wilderness should be no excuse. If dates and olives thrive in the desert, as believers we have no excuse. 

Because this is the rich treasure locked up in the wilderness: Just like a tea bag tastes sweetest in hot water, so does the desert cause us to birth sweet, strong and resilient fruit. It is a place where God's promises become as real to you as your breath. It is where His promises become incandescent to us lighting the path to our feet.

Dear one, we are called to not only bear fruit but to also THRIVE in every circumstance we are in.

Wherever you go, in whatever situation you find yourself, choose to happen. Purpose to bear much fruit. You were born to thrive ESPECIALLY in the wilderness.

When Prison Gates don't open just yet

Recap here

When I was 12 years old, my mother thought it fit to buy me a book - 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens. She came to my room and placed it on my bed when I was away doing whatever it is 12 year olds do. My return home went like clockwork: Eat dinner rushingly, then head straight for my room. And so I did; only to find a reddish bluish book cover with large font that spelt trouble for me. Yes. The large font read "7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens" but in my eyes, she was calling me trouble and the book was free therapy for her pubescent child. I hissed at it and sucked my teeth and put it on the table in the corner of my room. I purposed not to glorify her warped perception of me by reading the book. And I didn't, for a while...

In the coming days, there was a silence that hung about me, and the book seemed to have a glow about it. I found myself reaching out and holding it.

"I told myself not to read it, but it wouldn't hurt to know what it's about by reading the back cover," I reasoned.

And I did.

"Well that can't be enough. Read the acknowledgements and introduction. Just that," I told myself.

But a few pages led to a few chapters and after some time I was pouring myself into every page. It still is one of the best reads I recommend for teenagers. Of course, when I think about it, my mum, a learner with an insatiable ability to devour books, was simply feeding my inherited hunger to read with a book she thought would be helpful. She must have enjoyed her copy of "7 Habits of Highly Effective People" so my getting the book was her desire for me to acquire the same wisdom in a way that would speak to the heart of things in my life. And i'm thankful for it.

That book really opened my mind. I learnt about paradigm shifts. I learnt that I need to seek first before i'm understood when talking with others (the only habit I seem to remember and still need to practice) And most of all, I learnt that life is like an Olympic track field. Everyone has their own lane, only instead of it being open for all to see like the normal ones, each person's lane is separated from another's with high walls.

The lesson was this: It doesn't matter if your lane is littered with hurdles for the next couple of metres. It's your lane designed specifically just for you by God and you should go at your pace because the only one you are competing against is yourself. Even more, that no one helps their race by climbing up the wall to see how another is doing.

But don't we do that all the time?

Don't we look at other people getting into relationships and also hunt down for a companion as if life depends on it?

Don't we look at our friends getting married and feel like time is running out on us?

Don't we look at people having children and starting families and feel an inner sense of incompleteness?

Don't we look at people we know getting jobs so easily left right and centre and wallow in a pit of self condemnation (this one I still struggle with, honestly)

Again, what are we trying to prove and to whom?

Will it ever be enough?

If there's someone who I totally get right now in the Bible, it's Joseph. I just do. Like him, I had wonderful visions of how my life would turn out, but the process of getting there has been so tough. His brothers sold him as a slave to some merchants, but my family just looks at me with eyes that seem to shout, "You're letting yourself waste away. You have nothing to show for your life or education and you're just okay wasting away." And maybe that stings a little. A whole year and I still haven't found the right way to respond to their questions let alone to myself... Even more, in this season, like him, my incessant ache to run has quieted down because prison walls just aren't that big enough a track.

Prison here typifies a season of stillness, and waiting, and separation - just so I don't lose you. It's what I call God pushing pause on your life so that nothing interferes with what He's doing behind the scenes. Yes. Process. So unavoidable yet so necessary.

Anyway, there were times in the beginning of my prison days (LOL I had to) when I was bitter. Times when I felt like I deserved better and that I wasn't supposed to be in that place. I don't know if Joseph complained about being falsely accused by Potiphar's wife and then thrown into prison but I did. And I blamed the world and everything in it.

Weren't my grades great?

Hadn't I found my way back to God?

Wasn't I eager to do something, anything, to fill the "nothingness" (until God told me no)?

I was a battered person. In my definition, a battered person is someone who is going/has gone through a tough situation and survived and is laced with a godly wisdom that lifts up. Like Joseph, God brought on my way people who needed some counsel and advice. We'd talk and I'd encourage them, and their responses would be, "I thank God for using you to tell me this. It's just what I needed." And after a while, like the butler/cup bearer (Genesis 40) God would remove them out of the same funk we were in and into another place and I would be left in the same prison walls. Oh Joseph gets it!

I used to tell God, "Thank You for using me to be someone else's battered person, but can you send a battered person just for me on my way?" As if it is the battered person that elevates!

This remains true: the same God that lifts is the same God that brings low. And it's all for a greater purpose than we can comprehend at the time.

Oh how it broke me! I would hold myself together with tape and glue trying not to cry when God would push play in the lives of other people who were on hold like me. But I could only hold back the tears until the bus stop, and then I would leak on my way home.

The sad reality was that I was not confident in my process. I was not confident that God was working behind the scenes for His glory to bring me closer to the palace. I was elevating my circumstance above God's truth. And so I complained and wept and cried and kicked and screamed and sulked until God told me it does me no good (remember the Israelites in the wilderness?) Even worse, I was afraid to hope. Even when God would speak to me daily to encourage me that I was never alone, I would look at other's lanes and journeys and then at mine and I would doubt. 

"Why then was I less than?"

"Excuse me! Who told you that because it cannot be Me."

"Everything around me. Everything!"

"Have you learnt nothing my child?"

I had asked God sometime in April, "Why do I have to feel so alone and forgotten to know that I am not alone and that I am not forgotten?" Well, the answer to me was that faith has a different set of eyes that are not moved by what we see, hear or feel but by God's voice and His word alone (with an unshakable conviction that makes us say, truly, you are with me Lord)

And I realized my focus was set on everything but Him, and when my gaze would turn to Him, it would be for His Hand to move and rarely for His Heart. Still He kept encouraging me. How bad I need heaven-sight! I was too short sighted focussing on the here and now when that's not how the story begins. Yes. Begins. Not ends.

People were seeing the rain in my life and the flood around me, and I was looking on with them. So like Peter, I would often drown. Here's the thing though, they were not seeing me elevated through it. I was wading. My feet were not touching the ground and it scared me but I need not fear. God was and is right here with me carrying me through it and healing my mind and heart.

I needed to see beyond the lightning in my situation. I needed to listen beyond the howling wind and thunder surrounding me now and hear the Father's voice louder than everything else. That because God is here with me, I will not be moved or shaken.

Wasn't this the anchoring in Christ I so badly desired?

Aren't storms and turbulence what make a sailor sea worthy?

Why was I not inviting Christ to calm the storm raging in me?

Even more, why wasn't I praising?

I was living as though prison was an end in itself when yet it is a preparation of the season God is preparing me to enter into. God brought me low to learn some pertinent things and to form my character before He lifts me to a higher place of responsibility. Even then, life is all about moving forward trusting Him, and knowing that your life will make sense backwards. That's when the process makes sense - when you look back.

My time of lifting is closer than ever, but am I prepared? Joseph was. When Pharaoh called, he first shaved himself, changed his clothes and made himself presentable. He wasn't caught unawares. Why? He knew that he was being ushered into the next season. This was the elevation God had been preparing Him for all that time and he wasn't going to enter into it with the same clothes or the same countenance or mind set. He knew that he was in prison for such a time as this (Genesis 41)

So what do you do when the prison gates don't open just yet? You praise and praise and praise God who is at work behind the scenes. Because as you praise, you rise.

And this truth remains: When the prison gates don't open just yet, praise God. Because you're closer to the palace than ever!