Trust the process…and the time it needs to take —
Trust that the pain you experience today is the pain you will heal from tomorrow.
Trust that out of the fractures and fragments of a broken dream will one day emerge a strong foundation. A restructure out of every ruin.
And take God into the mix.
Take the God who knows what needs to happen in between the season of sowing and reaping to be the One who holds your desires and dreams in the tears and tensions of the in-betweens.
Trust in the God who meticulously takes His time to germinate every seedling into a fruit-bearing plant and every fetus into a full grown man, and who graces every season lacerated with pain to provoke every new reason for believing.
Believing for the better. Believing for the greater.
Yeah, our God takes His time.
He takes the time to slowly concoct the person He makes to take him deep before He takes him far.
To teach him laughter in the face of loss, and joy in the face of the mundane.
And to awaken in him to the truly extraordinary life in what looks like — simply and pitifully ordinary.
The face of faith?, is always joy.
Joy to go through the season from broken to beauty.
Joy to believe that sometimes the breaking isn’t meant to harden you, but to hearten you.
To make you alive.
Again.
And this is the gift of pain — to provoke your ability to dream.
Because what is comfortable can keep you from dreaming what is truly possible.
Haven’t I read it somewhere?
That the root word for both ‘passion’ and ‘suffering‘ in Latin is identical: “passio”.
For suffering is inevitably found at the core of every passion, and nothing great in this world has ever been accomplished without passion.
But that same passion can be lacking in what I sinfully indulge — the comfort of the known, the predictability of the stable.
So we hal — and refuse the rush.
We’ll take the time to learn what passion can cultivate, what dream will individuate, when we let Him take His time.
This is the time to ponder and pause, to reset and soak. Wash off every familiar way of addressing success, we’ll pray through the unknown.
When we build our own bonfire in cold joy, we’ll know Him as our only true raging Fire.
One day, the seed in the soil will grow.
One day, this planting will blossom.
And that mighty seed — is you and me!
“…that he whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates in His law day and night, they shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, bringing forth its fruit in its season, whose leaf also shall not wither, and whatever he does shall prosper.” (Psalm 1:2)