Living

 

imageYesterday, I was driving home and found my street the color of clay, flooded with a couple of inches of water, and police officers on the scene. It seemed there had been a water-main break, and it compromised both the road and the water source for the surrounding houses. In the hours that followed, the street was dug up, and the pipes underneath repaired. It took until morning for the water to flow again.

It’s funny; we walk, run, cycle, and drive on roads, but seldom give thought to what happens underneath. There are complex systems just under the surface; water, sewer, and sometimes electricity, that we so often take for granted. When we turn on the faucet and nothing comes, or when it comes through brown and silted, we know there’s a problem, and the problem requires digging to find a solution.

It’s the same in our spiritual lives. We take so much for granted. Things are just supposed to flow, and when there’s a disruption, we feel it and we express it.   I had been doing my share of feeling and expressing about a particular spiritual season I was in when I headed to Living Proof Live in Springfield, MA this past weekend. This kind of thing was out of the ordinary for me. I’m Catholic, and I love my faith, but I also love Christian writers and speakers of other denominations. When I happened to catch Beth Moore and Living Proof on TV, the stadium-sized presentation seemed out of place from what I was used to, but her message was of God and it was directed like a laser at my heart. I felt her words intently and personally, and was uniquely drawn to her ministry. When I learned she was coming to our area to speak, I got my ticket without a second thought. By then, I was in a rough place in my spirit. My intimate relationship with Jesus had been compromised. I had been struggling and striving and I was oh, so tired. I wanted desperately to feel that connection with God again, but I was weary. The pipes were rusty, damaged, and in real danger of breaking. The life-giving water I had relied upon was running dry.

When I settled into the conference, likely one of very few Catholics in the room, I did not know what to expect. I prayed my rosary before we got started, and felt only a little weird about it. It’s possible some people in the room mistakenly believed Catholics worship Mary, when really we just ask her help to get closer to her Son. I felt a little out of place, but in such desperate need of Jesus. I closed my eyes and kept my seat.

My corrosion of spirit had been rooted in a deep disappointment about my vocation and purpose. I had felt the leading of God which came like clear water turned murky when the leadings didn’t bear fruit. There’s too much to tell about this story, but I will say that by the time I came to the conference, it was dark underneath the surface and the water was coming through tinged with muck. It was well past time to do some digging and repair the damage. We had to shine a light and work through the night toward morning. I needed a serious work crew, and thankfully, I got one in Jesus, Beth and her team.

As the weekend unfolded, I felt the deep work that Jesus was doing in my soul. There were priorities that needed to be re-ordered, and judgments that were faulty and needed excavation.   There was a fresh conduit made between me and God this weekend, and it was sturdy and new. Before I knew it, the water was flowing, clearer than it had before. Between tears and the Holy Spirit, it was well past functional; it was abundant.

Today, I feel a bit raw and I’m still processing much of the work that took place in my soul this weekend. There’s no new pavement laid there; just some gravel and dirt to hold it in place, but it feels new and right and re-ordered underneath where it counts. For today, I’m just trying to keep the valves and faucets turned on so the water can flow, and I know that’s my only job. God really will do the rest. He can be trusted and He is worthy. What a relief.

Thank you, Beth, Travis, and team, for letting God speak through you this weekend.  Thank you, Rebecca, for your prayers over me.

 

 

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