This is the shop

The longer I’ve been waiting, the more I’ve realized that waiting is built into the very fabric of nature. 

It is in the DNA of creation.

Butterflies for example.

They undergo such a hugely transformational process brought about through a tight space and a lot of time.  And when they break free they are virtually unrecognizable from who they were when they started out.  I’ve wondered if caterpillars instinctively know in the moment that their extremely small living quarters are to their benefit or if their chrysalis feels more like a straightjacket in the moment.

I don’t know that I’ve always been able to identify right away the benefit to my confined spaces.  They usually feel like they do more harm than good.  

I remember this one time in particular when I had an opportunity to be a creative director of something and was full of ideas and excitement about what my team and I would have a chance to create.  Then I had a meeting with my leader where they shared a list of new constraints that were going to be placed on what we were going to be able to do before we even had a chance to start.  Looking back it really wasn’t a big deal but in the moment it felt crushing.  I felt creatively claustrophobic as I realized that many of the things I had imagined creating didn’t seem like they were going to be possible.  It felt like a lack of trust; like I was demoted and the small space meant that they were expecting small results.

After the meeting I went to my supervisor and told him about it as I tried to hold back tears.

And his response was something I wasn’t quite expecting.

“Well, Lauren.  It’s a lot like wine.”

Huh?

“I know you are ready to pour it all out and you feel like you’re about to burst but with wine, when it hasn’t been poured out, it doesn’t take away from the product; It just makes it that much richer.”

Even though it didn’t feel like it, the tight space was going to work to my benefit.

I lived in Madrid, Spain for 6 months right after college and as the time was drawing to a close I was eager for the next adventure and destination.  So, imagine my surprise when I felt every arrow point back home.  I wasn’t sure why, but I knew that, at least for a season I was being called back to my hometown to put what I had been learning into practice, grow in character, spend time with my family, and serve in my community.  I was going to be there until God said otherwise but I gave myself a deadline of 6 months believing that that would be plenty of time for God to do what He wanted.

I was very wrong.

The months seemed to drag on and my small town seemed to get smaller and smaller. I was growing resentful and bitter of this confined space even though it was something I chose. With every opportunity I was offered I responded first with a disclaimer “I don’t know how long I’m here for but…” Until one day I felt God respond to my little disclaimer with

“Yes, you don’t know how long you’re here but you’re here now so own it.”

And He was right. 

I was living one foot in one foot out and it wasn’t doing me any favors.  I was honestly so afraid of settling.  Of others thinking that I had given up on my dreams.  But I needed to fully commit to the constraints in order for it to shape me in the way that God intended.  It felt painful to give up on my own timeline and the false hope it gave me but it was a simultaneous sigh of relief to trust completely.  My ego needed to get over the apparent “smallness” of my life and learn to measure things differently.  Who cares if it’s seemingly small if it’s really packed with potential.

I was undergoing a transformation in incubation.

If I would let it, a tight space and a lot of time would produce something beautiful within me.

My Grandpa’s favorite song was an old hymn whose lyrics were from Isaiah 40:31:

“They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength.  They shall mount up on wings as eagles.  They shall run and not grow weary.  They shall walk and not faint.”  And then it would repeat: “Teach me Lord, Teach me Lord, to wait”

I didn’t know when my grandfather passed away that those words were going to become so precious to me.  They became the soundtrack to my season and a constant reminder of the goal set before me.

One day, I was going to fly.

When I was living in Madrid in the end of 2017 and beginning of 2018, I was going through a 5 month school that was almost like an extended spiritual retreat.  Each week brought with it a new form of healing that I had no idea I needed.  They were behaviors or mindsets that I didn’t realize were weighing me down because I was used to the weight.  They didn’t seem to me to be a hindrance because they weren’t keeping me from walking through the day to day of life.  The problem was, I wasn’t made to walk, I was made to fly.  That sounds pretty cliche but the fact of the matter was that what was once serving me just fine was no longer going to serve me where I was going.  It was dead weight.  Week after week I began to feel lighter and lighter by the healing that was taking place in my heart.

The unhurried, unpretentious, unconditional love of God was setting me free.

And with freedom comes a new perspective.

Perspective is so powerful because there is no change in what you see, only in how you see it.  How you see something drastically affects how you respond to it.

An ant and an eagle have a significantly different perspective because of their vantage point.  I don’t know about you but, I’d rather see with the eye of an eagle.

But in order for God to bring a new perspective, one that wasn’t momentary but was there to stay, He was going to have to renew my mind.

And in the process of renewing my mind he was going to have to remove every lie and fear that had kept me on the ground.

This process can sometimes feel like a daunting task- like learning to fly when you’re afraid of heights.

It is an interesting dynamic to know you're called to big things but feel chained to the floor.  I had journals and journals full of big dreams and things I felt I was one day going to get to do and create but it seemed like with every small step I took I was trudging through a knee deep quicksand of toxic thoughts that I couldn’t quite get ahold of.  I would feel stuck and full of fears that I didn’t agree with but seemed to like to have the last word over my life.  These fears were fixated on my “not enoughness”.  “If I lose weight, then I’ll be ready.”  “Things are too busy, I’ll wait for things to calm down.”  Excuses rooted in fear that kept me grounded. Wanting to fly but so afraid I will fall.

And it’s not that I didn’t trust God per se.

I didn’t trust myself. 

I knew He was able but my focus was still on my ability or lack thereof.

I was wholly consumed with my weaknesses and fears that seemed to keep me from seeing past the ground.

There is a quote I love in the movie The Shack.  It says: "Birds are created to fly. You, on the other hand, were created to be loved. Living unloved is like clipping a bird’s wings. … This is why you’re here, Mackenzie. This is your flying lesson."

I had had glimpses of freedom before- of what it looks and feels like to live without fear, but now it was time to learn to truly soar and leave every fear behind for good.  And the love of God was going to become my greatest teacher.

I used to think I needed to fight against fears in order to overcome them but with every attempt I would feel weak and discouraged.  I began to realize that every victory I have had over fear has not been by fighting against it but instead by leaning into love.  Unclenching my fists and resting in the reality of His love for me.  With every deeper revelation I have of His love the more I realize that I have nothing to fear.  Fear loses its grip on me as I settle into His perfect love.  Fear will always demand a reaction but my response is to realign my gaze and rest.  The battle belongs to the Lord.  

The more I grow the more I realize that rest and faith are synonymous.  Understanding the reality of Jesus and what He came to do continually releases in me a profound sense of rest and shalom: peace and wholeness.  In that place my striving can cease because He has carried my every burden and finished the work that I could not.  And my response to who He has revealed himself to be is to rest in Him.  My rest is my work.  It is my active belief in the completeness of who He is and what He has done for me.  I can lean my full weight into Him because He is all sufficient for my every need.  

Flashback for a second to the school in Madrid.

One day we had a guest speaker that showed a short video.  It was a series of clips of all of these dads with their daughters. There was about a 2 second clip in that video that has always stuck with me.  It was of a Dad and daughter snowboarding.  The dad was zipping down the mountain and he was holding his daughter up as she was stretched out as if she was flying.  The look of sheer joy on their faces has been etched in my memory.  I haven’t seen a more clear picture of what it looks like to truly fly with God- to let go and trust completely as you’re held by Him.

I began to notice that when eagles fly, they do not strive. 

They are not doing anything that they weren’t created for.  They partner with the wind and both the wind and the wings operate in the order in which they were created.  The eagle does not do the wind’s job.  Its wingspan was made to catch the wind and be carried.  But for an eagle to fly, it doesn’t just need to trust in the wind but also in its wings. In order for an eagle to partner with the wind, it needs to do what it was made for and trust that the way it was made is enough.  It will do what it was designed to do.  It will fly not because of its wings alone but because of the unseen- the magic of wings hitting wind.

And that is what fear keeps you from seeing- the unseen.  It causes you to see possibilities without God’s power.  Fear leads you to believe that it’s all about you and your own strength when that couldn’t be further from the truth.  

There is a way of life that can be completely free of every ounce of striving that is marked by the pace of grace.  There is a love that sees past the smoke and mirrors that fear conjures up.  A love that parts the clouds and removes the weight.  A love that lifts you higher than you ever thought you could go.  A love that feels a lot like flying.

I have three drawings in my journal from a few years ago: Jacob’s ladder, a tree of life, and an arrow that’s shot up and somehow its trajectory wraps around the whole world. All three pictures are of the same concept: The Ascent, the “up and out” that is coming.

And I believe that to be true not just for me but for you, too. I may not know the entirety of your story or what you’ve had to walk through while you wait but I can tell you that all that you’ve endured is going to be well worth it. I believe you’re being prepared for things that no eye has even seen yet. That your capacity has been stretched beyond measure because your influence will one day stretch around the globe. I believe that whatever you feel has been lost or stolen from you in the waiting will be restored back to you ten times over. And I believe that whatever you have sown with tears, you will reap with shouts of joy.

There is new life coming.

New dreams. New strength. New wind.