Coming Out of the Desert

(Part One) When your exit plan is vetoed by the Exit Planner.

COMING OUT OF THE DESERT

To begin… I have hungered for my Little Yellow Bird connection to you. I have thirsted for months. Lent supposedly ended in March. Not for me. Did yours end when it was supposed to? If so, I congratulate you. When I think of answering to you why I have not appeared in your inbox for four months I am reminded of Gandalf’s answer to Frodo after he was asked by the hobbit why he, Gandalf, did not meet them as planned - after experiencing the first terrifying leg of their journey.

“I was… detained.” And Gandalf leaves it at that.

I was detained for reasons that gutted me. Apparently that’s a good thing though. Being “gutted”. Gutting all the gunk out. I won’t pretend I’m all distilled water now but I am being “released”… I know my verbiage sounds like I was in prison. That’s intentional.

We moved to Fredericksburg, Texas to be closer to family… it was a compromise. We tried to keep that intimate small town feel we had in Yardly, PA while being a drivable distance from the cities. But, alas, it just wasn’t the same. Not that it was supposed to be. But we had expectations. Okay “I” had expectations… of which none were met.

Why?

Because when God takes you, invites you, or in my case “places” (plops?) you in the desert (not the obligatory Lenty desert but the unexpected assignment… the “plopping”), I’ve learned meeting YOUR expectations isn’t exactly at the forefront of his purpose.

Meeting Him is. Meeting your truest self is.

Why did it feel like a prison? Because I was placed in what felt like a “freeze” (pun intended). A freeze on just about everything I desired - even the ability to visit family - which is why we moved here. Again, my plan vs God’s plan. He froze me in the middle of the blazing desert so that I’d focus on what needed focusing. Myopia be healed.

But he is merciful and all providing. So while I was feeling like I’d been placed in solitary confinement, namely a “job,” (in quotes because it wasn’t something in alignment with my career), I impatiently tolerated… meaning I barely tolerated it - he gave me the most time I may have ever had to work diligently on my writing (plays, musical etc.) and to pay attention to my marriage; to my beloved, without distraction.

Remember when I first got here and I saw those dead yellow birds? I had to reread it for myself. How prophetic is seems now. But in short is should have been so obvious: This is not the place to live. BOOM. Don’t you hate it when you don’t get things at the start, but have to wait until you have “perspective”? Sheesh. Happy to say we are moving on and at the writing of this will be in our new home, Dallas, within two weeks. Why Dallas? Read on.

Yellow bird flies again!

SURPRISES IN THE DESERT

Did you know there are surprises in the desert? I know because I have just experienced it. At the beginning of the year I prayed that God would surprise me. I really did. I used those words. May I tell you now, that if you should ever take on this prayer… that God will be ever-faithful in the answering of it.

It all began last Christmas… with a DNA test. By January of this year, God was rolling out the red carpet of surprises.

To be continued…

(A little carrot for you… you might want to remind yourself of this story.)

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