The last few days have been incredibly stressful.
We found out, very suddenly, that we had to move out this weekend (as opposed to next weekend, which was our original plan). This basically required my cousin and I to spend the entire day trying to pack my whole house.
For different reasons NONE of my girlfriends could help me pack. My mom is out of town (and feeling guilty that she isn't here). My brother had other plans. My husband was at work. My mother in law was at work (and came as soon as she was off). My dad, thankfully, watched my kids for most of the day.
There was one point when I sat on the floor trying not to cry. My sweet, mercy-girl cousin sat with me, feeling every ounce of frustration and abandonment that I was feeling.
Lets top this off with the fact that I have committed to teaching a holy yoga class in Sedona (3 hours away) tomorrow.
So, I have to spend the entire day alone in my car while my husband tries to move EVERYTHING.
Do you see how the stress is rising?
My cousin, Lisa, is always saying these astonishing God-filled things. She is always re-directing my frustration and anger. Today was no different.
Today, she was the voice of Jesus, asking me to trust.
When I finally sat down to attempt putting a class together for tomorrow, I remembered a story from the Bible that I haven't thought of in a very, very long time. As always, it meant something new to me...
I remembered Elijah in 1 Kings 19.
He was beaten, running for his life.
He laid down under a broom tree in the middle of the desert and cried out to God.
He asked to die.
Life was too much and he had no hope left.
The world would surely destroy him.
But God sent an angel to feed and water him. Twice.
And then the angel told Elijah to get up and enter the desert.
So Elijah traveled for 40 days and 40 nights... surely a sign of a man in exile.
He came to Mount Horeb.
He stood outside the mouth of a cave and he waited for God to speak.
First there was a mighty wind.
God was not in the mighty wind.
God was not in the mighty wind.
And then there was an earthquake.
God was not in the earthquake.
And then there was a fire.
God was not in the fire.
But then there came a whisper... soft... still... quiet... powerful.
God was in the whisper.
God spoke.
He replanted Elijah's dead calling.
He reaffirmed Elijah's purpose.
He called Elijah back to life and sent him back to the place he had come from.
Why did God bring Elijah all this way to speak to him?
Why not just set him straight in the desert?
Maybe because Elijah needed the journey.
Maybe he needed to get far away from the stress of his life to come to a place where he could recognize God in the whisper.
Maybe the only way to save Elijah's fallen heart was to bring him deep into a secret place, fill him with supernatural nourishment and speak softly to his broken heart.
For some reason God has been letting me feel alone... abandoned.
For some reason God has been giving me no choice but to follow him into a little desert.
And tomorrow I am going to be more alone than I have been in a very, very long time.
I am tired. I feel beaten down and temporarily hopeless.
Maybe I NEED the journey.
Maybe I NEED to hear the whisper.
Maybe I NEED a secret, quiet place.
So, at the end of the day, I am surrounded by boxes...
I am exhausted...
I am not sure what to expect when I wake up...
But this one thing is clear...
Jesus is leading me somewhere.