This past week I’ve been reminded of someone I used to know. Or rather, someone I knew of… that I was deprived of knowing. And was deprived of being known by. Someone that inadvertently shaped me more than perhaps anyone else ever will.
And the reasons for which I came to believe in the things that I do were thus prompted as well. No, not prompted. That’s being too nice. More like… um…
More like…
I was inside a cabin in the dead of winter, amidst some rhetorical forest out in the middle of nowhere (dun dun dun). And I was beside this blazing fire, bundled up in the wooliest of blankets. The cozy kind, not the itchy kind. Complete with that cup of not-too-hot cocoa with not just three marshmallows, but four, because the person who made it for me adores me. With a book in hand that was just getting to the good part, the part where I can’t put it down…
When there’s a knocking at the door. No, a pounding.
And I get up to answer it, half annoyed that whoever it is interrupted the story line of this oh so captivating book. Because I had the blanket wrapped just right to where I was toasty warm, but I could still turn the pages comfortably.
But I go anyways, and I open the door to see who it is. But no one’s there. I step outside, curious and confused.
When suddenly a furious gust of wind, fierce and obsessed, comes swirling up around me… slamming the door shut behind me and taking my cozy (not itchy) wooly blanket with it into the darkness beyond.
And my breath. It takes my breath away.
And I’m standing there, shivering, gasping. Left only to gaze longingly back into the window of that cabin with those raging flames licking the logs in the middle of my carefully constructed and put together conception of a life lived well.
That’s where I’m at right now. Maybe that doesn’t make any sense. But… that’s exactly how I feel. Shivering, and feeling ashamed for having been so blind. Foolish for having duped myself into believing I was content in my little bubble, my little corner of the world. For having been deceived by distraction. For not being on my guard.
Wake up calls come in all shapes and sizes. Well, I’m assuming. I haven’t had that many, but those that I have had indeed were fashioned very, very differently. And this one… stings. I feel like a child being reprimanded, but sheepish, for I knew all along that something was amiss.
Eh. Just realized that there’s something wrong with my above analogy. It made it seem like I want to be back inside the cabin. Which I don’t. It was comfortable in there, sure. But I would’ve gotten bored eventually. And I was all alone. Oh, wait. But someone had made my cocoa with four marshmallows, huh? Well, shoot. Okay, okay… so not my finest work.
Fine. Here’s chapter two.
I THINK I want to be back inside of the cabin. Because of all that it seemingly represents: security, comfort, not a care in the world… but that never lasts.
For it never truly SATISFIES.
It just doesn’t. You guys know this.
Mostly, I’ve been reminded this past week of some of the verses I very first highlighted, circled, underlined, all of the above in my Bible:
But I have this complaint against you. You don’t love me or each other as you did at first! Look how far you have fallen from your first love! Turn back to me again and work as you did at first. If you don’t, I will come and remove your lampstand from its place. – Revelation 2:4-5
I realized this week that the light I offered this world had been removed. And almost just as important of a realization being that I want it back. And He, in pure grace, seems to blowing the dust off my candle and illumining the wick once again…
For in addition to the nudging of the above verses came these as well:
Psalm 40:2-3a –
He lifted me out of the pit of despair,
Out of the mud and the mire.
He set my feet on solid ground
And steadied me as I walked along.
He has given me a new song to sing,
A hymn of praise to our God.
And 3b, which can only be done through Him:
Many will see what he has done and be amazed.
They will put their trust in the LORD.
Praying that your light has not been dimmed, but that if it has, you put your trust in Him to gleam brilliantly again.
Amen.
, your hannah 