Tuesday, October 8, 2019

Dust in the Hands of a Mighty God

I'm at a cross-roads.

We all are sometimes, aren't we?  The path bends and winds... it rises and falls... sometimes there are steep climbs and others are easy strolls.  Always, eventually, we come upon a crossroads in the path.

One thing about crossroads: there rarely seem to be signs.

Wouldn't signs me handy?  Like, "Go this way for certain success" or "This way is going to be long and difficult".  Oh, occasionally there may be hints, suggestions as to what we might find.  Sometimes what we think will be there, in fact, is not.  But the hardest crossroads are the ones where the choice you make is so monumental, it takes you in a direction you may not be able to return from.

That is my crossroad.

Writing is a daily battle for me.  I have noticed that many good authors I read have the exact same struggle.  When God gives us words and a Call to share them, well, the enemy does all he can to discourage us and send us off-track.

However, recently, the attacks hit way to close to home.  Encouragement I had become assured of from sources I had always relied on and trusted, suddenly disintegrated to dust.  Plans which had been in the works for nearly a decade and actions progressing toward their end... dashed.  HUGE things I had thought and come to rely on for over 20 years have suddenly been yanked away from me and thrown into the flaming pile of unbelief and confusion.  I'm not even sure what I am looking at right now.

I promised raw truths on the blog in my most recent newsletter!  Bet you didn't expect that.

I don't know what to do with the dust.  Hence my crossroads.  I picked up all the charcoaled cinders, crammed them into a bag and here I stand, holding my heavy load.  Questioning.  Wondering.  What do you want me to do Lord?  Not my will, but His alone.

In the midst of my contemplations God is sending little messages... which are often followed by another attack from the enemy.  It is a cycle... at times it is crippling.  One message, though, he sent as I have been reading "It's Not Suppose to Be This Way" by Lysa Terkeurst.  I'm only on chapter 3 but so far she is striking every chord needed to hit just the right melody.  I guess you could say, it is traveling music!  My favorite part so far?


Dust doesn't have to signify the end.  
Dust is often what must be present for the new to begin.

She goes on to share how, Biblically, God does amazing things with dust.  To begin with... he made man.  In Isaiah and Jeremiah He speaks of us in terms of clay in the potter's hands... clay = dust + water.  And Jesus used dust with a bit of spit to heal a man who was blind.  Dust isn't merely a remnant of what was, rather, it is the base of what is to come.

I began to see how, standing at these crossroads holding a sack full of dust is actually a good thing.  Suddenly I'm not mourning what I've been loosing, but rather, I'm beginning to anticipate, with deep curiosity, what God is planning if He has allowed hopes and dreams and plans to be scorched to dust like this.

My idea of what is good is nothing compared to His idea of what is better.

In the mean time, I'm meandering about the intersection, doing each next thing until I am certain which turn to take.  At times I pause and contemplate some more.  I believe, though, now that I am beginning to understand the purpose of my load of dust, it may be time to set it down... it isn't my load to carry, rather, it is the Lord's to take up and begin working with.  I think I will put a tall pitcher of water there on the ground beside my sack as well, I have a feeling the potter's hands are preparing to work.  I can't wait to see what He forms!

Do you have a sack of dust you are carrying today?  I pray you can find a place to lay it down, with a pitcher of water, and step back to see what the Lord is planning to form.


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