Ch.1 - Familiar Is that Closet Door

We are the sum total of our experiences. Those experiences, be they positive or negative, make us the person we are at any given point in our lives. And like a flowing river, those same experiences and those yet to come continue to influence and reshape the person we are…the person we become. None of us are the same as we were yesterday, nor will we be tomorrow. (B.J. Neblett)

And so it begins, Book 3, Chapter 1, of this, the Unwavering Series. You wouldn't know if I didn't tell you, but there has been nothing but starts and stops, multiple backspaces, repetitive deletes, and squirrels chased in writing this thing. Well, not literally.

And yes, I did mention squirrels.

Do you remember the movie, "Up"? The dog, Doug? Yep, that's me.

Squirrel.

Sorry, couldn't help myself for a second.

Even so many more rabbits than squirrels have I chased down so many holes as I began to write this thing. I've honestly lost count for all the times I've had to dig myself out of each and every one -- holes that is -- before finally coming to an understanding of just where God was leading me, let alone what He was speaking or showing me.

Maybe that's because I had been trying in my own humanness to come up with just the right words to write this thing. Maybe I was trying to concoct some special herbal remedy for what felt like heartburn or indigestion, deep inside of me. It's crazy what happens physically, emotionally, mentally, let alone spiritually, when we have things we've yet to learn let alone the very things we need to bring and place directly at Jesus' feet.

You see, that closet cleanout I wrote about in Undaunted: A Young Life Riddled and But I Forgive You, those two books that were written just last year, there was no mention of anything additional. Nothing else for which God would have me deal with or from which I would have to write.

Truth be told, I had thought, with the writing of those books, that my purpose was simply writing my testimony; the facts of it; the experience of being widowed, forgiveness, beginning young adulthood not just once but twice; again and yet again.

It wasn't until I started writing that God brought His purpose to the words of books 1 and 2. And so similarly, I started this writing, with the sole intention of relaying information, but God's plan and purpose is always greater when we're submitted to His processes.

As I began to form the words for this unprincipled thing, it was in my own human terms through which I made multiple attempts to communicate what I wanted to say. I thought to myself, at least when I started out, "I know my purpose now; I no longer needed to ask God for what to say. I'll just tap away, fingers to alphabet letters on the computer keyboard."

You would think I would have learned last year that there is a much, much better way. It's okay to agree with that statement, even though I argued with it in my own heart.

I mean, truly. I can't even tell you how so many times I sat down, writing, typing letters to form words, hoping they would join themselves together to become phrases that would turn into sentences upon a blank computer page. And with each and every time I did just that, time and time again that beloved backspace key became my closest friend.

Yep, you know the one. It's often your best friend, too. Am I right?

And yes, I can't forget the other equally favorite, delete. It's very purpose, for times just like this. The creators of the computer keyboard; it's as if they knew we'd need more than just the alphabet to communicate what we wanted to say, only to need another key or two just to fix the errors our minds and fingers together would bring.

I became so very thankful through all of this for the time and experience I've had to learn that there are some advantageous shortcuts; keys that speed up all the fixin' quite a bit.

All too often I would hold down the left ctrl key, then depress the shift, and instruct my right hand to depress caret left all at the same time. So much time it would save as whole words and sentences could be selected and one stroke of the delete genius, who sentences were gone, erased, replaced with a new word, phrase, or whole sentences again.

And so with all the start and stop of this writing was also a very familiar nudge. In reality, the nudge was from God, Himself, as He cozied Himself right up next to me, His elbow resting at my side.

Every time I would start writing humanly, He'd move his elbow a little into me, quite playfully, really. It sure would get my attention. His purpose was simply in the movement; that I would give pause and turn my head to look His way. His desire was that I would stop what I was writing, quit what I was doing, and re-engage my ears to listening.

His response, then, to my pause? It was such a peaceful, simple grin. And in those moments, my mind would skip a beat or two as the words I thought I had, His grin would put a stop to each and every sentence then, whether one word, a clause, or a whole sentence.

And so sitting there with Him, it was in that space I came to realize this: it was time for me to set aside all my human tries. I had to learn to settle in and listen. And yes, listen again. It was evident Jesus was trying to draw my attention to something He so desperately wanted to say.

I simply had to get out of the way.

I continued in my struggle. not just in the writing and the words. but in a human understanding of just how quickly we would transition from one place to another. In one instance He and I would be seated so closely, and then our position would somehow randomly change.

And somehow, in my purview, I found myself standing in front of a very familiar open door.

I rubbed my eyes as there I stood wondering if I was dreaming. But as I blinked one time, and then again, I without hesitation blurted out five words, directly from my mind, without hesitation: "Oh, for Heaven's sake!"

Now, think about that. Oh, for Heaven's sake? Who blurts out such things in the presence of Heaven's King? It would be the equivalent of standing in the presence of the president and saying, Oh, for Washington D.C. sake; or Oh, for White House sake!

The things we say when we're not thinking often seem to take the cake; the icing, the sprinkles, everything. I don't even know what "take the cake means", but that phrase just seemed to so importantly fit here in this moment.

Anyway…I digress just a little.

As I realized then what I had said, Jesus elbowed me once again. I glanced his way a sheepish look, his eyes met mine leading me to that same simple grin. And as I brought my attention back from his face to the space, the space I was in, there, in front of me was that closet door; clearly the very same one of yesteryear.

And just as "heaven's sake" rolled right on off my tongue, another thought lept from me:

"God, I thought we took care of this last year? Remember spring cleaning? Remember us together, we've already been here."

"Jesus, please forgive me, I really shouldn’t have said that," I blurted next, thinking such would help. Yet, it didn't really matter, or so it seemed what I said, His silence was deafening.

I just remember standing there, like a kid in timeout that a parent forgot about. I waited for what seemed like an eternity to hear His voice again.

Oh, that He would speak to me!

He stood with me there patiently. He's ridiculously patient, really. At least that was my way of describing it.

Thing is, He knew I needed the tension of the quiet. I needed Him to listen and not verbally respond. My spirit desired the stillness of His presence as I was attempting, in my efforts, to comprehend why we were back here, back in this all too familiar place.

Yet again, instead of following His lead of quietness and rest, I hopped the impatience train again on the track I always took. Words, my choice of action time and again. Why is it I can't seem to embrace let alone practice the silence.

There must be something absent me, a lesson I missed from that course, "quietly". I definitely missed roll call for that one. I missed a whole lifetime, semesters of learning to embrace silence or so it would seem.

Amidst now the tension found in quiet's place, I found myself rather automatically leaping to questions all the more.

Jesus, what did I miss? Jesus, how did I fail? Jesus, it just seems I make mistake after mistake after mistake. I waste such precious time bringing so many words to what should be quiet time.

It was then that He broke the silence, not with words, but with a rather simple sound coming from just a bit of movement. In that moment, He flung wide His arms for me. He pulled me in, brought me close again. I was so close to Him, no words were necessary, no adjectives could ever describe that feeling then.

And it was in that moment I recognized, "hello, Mercy, my friend; hello, Grace, we meet again. Through Jesus' look, arms spread wide, His consistent simple grin, Mercy and Grace faithfully greeted me, beginning their work once again.

And as they did, Jesus released yet one more sound. I'm not sure I have the words to describe it, but nonetheless, for you, I'll give it a try.

He breathed in a breath, seeming deep as it could go. He held it a second, before letting it flow. And over my heart, my mind, that quiet space, He continued to breath in and breath out in such a special way.

In those moments my spirit seemed to embrace quietly, finally. It was in those moments I found myself doing everything I could to match my breathing with His.

Lesson one, maybe I've finally learned, quiet space embrace; drop the words; block out the noise; listen in; breath with Him.

Peace, peace, wonderful peace. Coming down from the Father above. Sweep over my spirit forever I pray, in fathomless billows of love.

There were still no words, in the midst of what I felt in that space. There was no instruction, no follow-up questions, no survey, no quiz. There was simply something special in that time. A seeming knowingness that my breathing in and out just needed to match His.

And so as it were, breath upon breath, Jesus and mine, coincided into a simple yet very necessary practice. As Jesus as I stood altogether quietly, Grace and Mercy working expeditiously, as Jesus grabbed my hand, and led me through, across the threshold of that familiar closet door.