If there is one thing God has taught me throughout the last year of my life, it is that my plans are most often not His. When we are sure as death and taxes that our vision is from the Lord, we think it will play out in reality as it does upstairs. I wish I could cap this hypothesis with some recent revelation that although the means may differ, the end is where the meat is. But as of now, I seem to still be in the thick of it.
I've always thought the phrase "my world is falling apart around me" was a little dramatic, but I'm starting to see one really can feel that way. But Nehemiah could have never built walls that hadn't been torn down and Jerusalem's story would have lost it's punch and the walls their grandeur. In the end, God as master builder deserves a fresh site but it's the clearing out of our sinful gunk that causes the pain.
Perhaps there are no better words of encouragement for you who may have both feet stuck in the mire than to simply say I am there also. That place where you know He is there still, but you find yourself trying to be convinced of it again from the last time you were here. Struggle and fight as we may, His strength is made perfect not only in our weakness but in our acceptance of it. Waving the white flag becomes a symbol for strength, and surrender is wisdom in action.
There are days in this life, this country, this work, when I wonder at the responsibility given to me. I get frustrated that labor done in His name seems fruitless, that dreams and visions He gives lack funding. And when you hit bottom because your organization is out of money and project commitments are put on hold and everything comes to a screeching halt - silence. But as the dust settles and the smoke clears, David says I trust in your unfailing love. Some trust in chariots and horses and money and employees and projects and test results but for us! For us. We trust merely in Your name, and it is enough. May our hearts echo the words of a king.