Tonight I cried. A good solid cry - it didn’t last long, only a few minutes at the most, but all day little things made me tear up. There were several moments when a few tears made their way down my face only for me to shake them off and tell myself “no”.
I tear up fairly easily, not necessarily due to sadness. Sometimes it’s thankfulness, a bittersweet memory, a sweet thing someone says, the look on a stranger’s face. I’m not talking about those moments. These were different and kept trying to pour out. I kept fighting it, tbh it has been a minute since I let myself have a real cry.
It’s pretty ironic - I advise others not to suppress their emotions and am fully aware of just how healthy they are. Not just healthy, purposeful. Our emotions are an indicator for us, trying to tell us something. Yet here I was all day trying to cover them up by putting my focus elsewhere.
All day as this was going on I could hear an inner whisper telling me to open my Bible. I had said prayers, and been talking to God nonetheless my head was saying "not now, God, I'll get to it later," formulating excuses that I needed to get some work wrapped up or plan for the next day. I felt I would sit there and do what needed to be done and talk to him as much as I needed and at the same time, not listen to what he was specifically advising: read My Word. As the day progressed, I stopped to do some reorganizing in my office and my hand brushed over a newer Bible I have, I paused (there it was again, that pull) and then I just kept going. “Not now, later. Soon.” When my day was over and I finally crawled into bed, I could feel the tears again as I looked over to grab my Bible from my nightstand. I occasionally play “Bible roulette” and open it to find what is there. That was my plan. As I picked it up, I saw a little crease and knew that was where I needed to turn.
Throughout my Bible are several devotional contributions from women. I open it and my eyes land on the right side to one of these devotions titled, “The Only Way Out is Through”. I could barely hold the tears back now, I started reading the first line and didn’t get to the end of it before the floodgates were open.
“The first time I heard the story “We’re Going on a Beat Hunt,”... That's all. All it took.
Two years ago at this time, every single day, my son and I went on bear hunts with our beloved dog. He made us feel safe on the rather vacant and somewhat secluded trials of the woods we ventured into each afternoon. Spending about two hours a day in those woods Monday through Friday became our cherished routine. This past Monday, as we drove home from school, I said, "I want to go on a bear hunt soon." His immediate, excited response was, "Let's go right now." We could have, perhaps we should have. He then began recalling many of the memories we shared in those woods. My response came hesitantly, "I don’t know if I feel comfortable without a dog, buddy." Our loss wasn't in the way you might expect, but this faithful companion was no longer a part of our lives.
Technically, you could argue he wasn’t ever officially our dog, but in our hearts, he was undeniably ours. He was the most faithful and well-trained dog I have been around. We seldom needed a leash for him; in fact, I didn’t even bring one most days. I wore a button around my neck that could vibrate his collar alongside a whistle, I rarely needed either. He roamed freely with us through the woods and his love for exploring those wooded trails was evident. He liked venturing off the paths just as we did. Yet, like clockwork, never more than three minutes would pass before he would reappear, checking in with us before darting off again. Sometimes I would catch him taking a quick look around a corner and then high-tailing it back off on his adventure. If more than three minutes passed, I would barely have to blow the whistle before he reappeared. Whenever my son was near the water, he remained closer, especially as the creek would rise and move a little faster during this time of year as the spring rain started showing up. My son, just three years old at the time, was always under our watchful eye.
We must have been quite the spectacle, the three of us. The few people we would see on the trail were sporting hiking boots or running shoes or sped by on mountain bikes. We would pop out of my car, buckets and a picnic in tow, clad in worn rain boots and our play clothes. Without fail, we'd return home with shoes full of debris or the dog needing a thorough rinse-off before we could call it a day.
I don’t know why I didn’t just take him on Monday. In my head, I remembered this is the time of year when it was getting closer to us not going as frequently, everything in bloom, and the visibility much less than the late winter days when you could see all around. I reminded myself that snakes have started to emerge from their winter slumber. Excuses, that’s what those are. The wrong voice speaking to me, the voice of fear and uncertainty. What happened on Monday is that I had swallowed the blessing, focused on the wrong piece of the story, and suppressed the real joy that I needed to recall.
Another irony is that I am sitting here writing this now. As I mentioned, I passed by the Bible earlier, telling myself “I will do it later” and just focused on things I thought I “needed” to do. Around 7pm, one of those times when a few tears fell down my face happened as I sat in front of my computer wondering why I had started the blog now, telling myself I didn’t have time to be consistent with it. The same thing I have been telling myself for almost a decade. I opened a folder where I have several things started or notes of topics I want to write about, along with some letters I have written to people in the past. I clicked on one and began to read. I got two short paragraphs into it and felt my eyes warm and start to fill; the second a tear fell, I closed the window, not willing to look anymore. I put my face in my hands and just shook my head. I regretted not sharing it with the person it was meant for and began talking to myself in my head in a way I would never talk to another human being, “why did you ever do that, I can’t believe you read this out loud to your counselor, you were such a fool and this probably made no sense to him”. Immediately a thought of another devotional writing I wrote for Advent in 2021 popped in my head, one about the beginning of the book of Isaiah, and I didn’t even let myself open it up. Again, telling myself “nobody wants to read that”. The wrong voices again. I went and sat on the couch in my office and distracted myself with thoughts over what could have been in regards to that letter and how scenarios should have played out.
Here I am now and God is speaking clearly, “The only way out is through”.
Sometimes, we don’t know what "through" looks like. Grief, loss, disappointment. Whatever tough situation life throws our way. They can paralyze us. For the most part, I have done well in not letting that happen in most areas of my life. But they are all hard things to get through, they aren’t meant to be easy. Why do we try to bypass it? We certainly don’t want these things in our life, but they are part of life. We must accept that. What God is telling me is that whatever the challenging situation is in front of me the best approach is to confront it directly and not avoid it. I must face the obstacles head-on and persevere until reaching resolution or clarity on the other side. We can’t avoid our problems. Even our problems with people.
Back to that letter, that voice in my head was not speaking truth. At the time, that letter helped me get through. It was shared in private to an outsider that could be trusted and as I read it aloud the day after writing, he saw the purpose: it was for me and meant for me to process.
When I let myself finish the heavy cry over seeing the bear hunt reference, I looked to the scripture on the adjacent page. It was Isaiah 42-43. It’s in the chapters preceding this when the tone of Isaiah changes. It’s within these pages that some of my favorite scripture lies (to be honest, I have a lot of favorite scripture though 🙂). My eyes landed on a few verses I had marked and then on the ones just before them:
Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by your name; you are mine.
When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you,
and the rivers will not overwhelm you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be scorched,
and the flame will not burn you.
For I am the Lord your God,
the Holy One of Israel, and your Savior.
I have given Egypt as a ransom for you,
Cush and Seba in your place.
Because you are precious in my sight
and honored, and I love you,
I will give people in exchange for you
and nations instead of your life.
My eyes filled again and out loud I said, “I love you too”. That released them once more. Then, I started thinking of my daddy and those final days with him last fall. Within those tears, I found hope and joy.
There are often things we avoid. Memories, losses, whatever. I want to go back to those woods, I do. And now the tears are flowing again. We all have places we want to go back to, don’t we? Sometimes to have a do-over and sometimes to just relive it - those woods are the latter. I wouldn’t change those special times, there is nothing sad about them. Honestly, some of the things we have to get through are just memorializing memories. I do miss the younger days of Emerson and me in those woods, but being the mother to this vibrant 5-year-old brings me joy. I also miss the innocence I carried walking through those woods, never imagining that sweet canine companion wouldn’t be in attendance. I miss the innocence of so much I didn’t know. Entangled with the things I miss, is more joy. A joy that is not transient. I reflect now on all that I have gained. I have learned a great deal more than I could have ever imagined: about people, life, loss, grief, the world, and myself.
I still see that dog occasionally. And he is still as faithful as ever, vocalizing his love through his barks or chasing my car as it passes. Sometimes I slow down enough to throw him a treat out the window and remind him that he is a good boy. We humans need those reminders too. And we need to remember to see the good. Even though I don't get to share experiences with him anymore, he still helps me see the good even in moments when all that surrounds him is far from it. Tonight, I was supposed to see that devotional and think about the sweetness of that pooch. Thinking now about that furry friend can be a reminder for us all: check in on the people we love, protect them, and stay close. It's the same with God, he's always checking in on us, protecting us, and he is always near.
This week I saw a sermon clip and it replayed in my head as I made dinner and then again just now when thinking of how I was prompted to pick up my Bible earlier and instead I put it on a temporary pause. It’s a clip of Craig Groeschel saying he is aware that many of us feel we are good Christians and at the same time feel we haven’t heard God speaking to us in a while. He suggests that maybe it’s because we didn’t do the last thing God told us to do. He continues by saying that maybe God gave you an assignment before and you haven’t done it yet. Maybe he prompted you to give something to someone to someone and you didn’t do it. Maybe he prompted you to confess a sin and you didn’t confess it. He gives various maybe scenarios. Following with, “if you haven’t heard from God in a long time maybe it’s because you didn’t obey the last thing he told you to do.”
Mm. That’s powerful and resonating with me right now. When I obeyed tonight, I gained insight. I was able to look at situations and see light within them. The thought comes to mind, what if I had obeyed earlier, maybe there was more he was wanting to teach me in that moment. There could be a gift that he wanted me to have, but I didn't make the right choice when I was first prompted.
My reflection for myself tonight is discerning over what I may not have listened to; what has God spoken into my life and I didn’t obey. And I pose the question for you, what did you not listen to? What has God spoken and you didn’t obey?
God doesn’t change his mind about us. He doesn’t give us blessings and instruct a certain will and then “never mind, change of plans” - the world and the enemy will try to rip apart his plans and the good things he has bestowed upon our lives. God hates division, especially among the things he joins together. So when we are given instructions, we must obey. I believe that if we don’t obey something small, then we eventually won’t obey something big. And at some point will we not recognize his voice anymore and mistake the voice?
Thanks for letting me pour it out to you tonight.
