The Israelite

You don’t know what is means to lay down your dreams
Unless you are laying down the very lives of those you hold dear,
And everything you ever wanted for them to have and be:
to grow up healthy and strong, to walk, to grow old, to be happy and fulfilled, to have friends, to be free of suffering —
When you have to face the possibility that those things may never happen.

And you don’t know God
until you have been thrust into an endless desert,
hoping beyond hope that He provides your daily bread
— His Word — even just one word —
because it is the only thing keeping you going.

And you don’t know humility
until you have doubted that God would come through,
because the doctors highly doubt,
and the world is shaking its head,
and the signs before your very eyes are all saying, no way.

And the loop in your mind is spiraling into a black hole of despair.
And you can’t climb out, even when you try.

But then He turns it all around
in a fantastic twist of fate,
Or you see something that aligns exactly with His Word,
the very thing He’s been feeding you all along.

And you realize then the shocking relief of being lifted swiftly out of the hole
And looking in the face of the One Who rescued you
Knowing you had not only doubted He would ever come,
but that you spat bitter words of anger, resentment, despair,
calling into question His character, His methods, His very goodness
All the miracles of the past
All the holes He had pulled you out of before — forgotten.

Yes. I am an Israelite.
Willing to turn to a man-made idol because God was “taking too long”
and I didn’t think I could go on in that void of hopelessness.

But He saved me anyway.
He unfurled my fingers
Stroked my head
Wiped my tears
Held me close
Took on my fears

And directed my gaze from the pit, that awful void,
To the glorious horizon,
Saying, we’re going there, you’ll see.
Just trust Me.


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