Captivated Me

I was visiting with my mom recently about freedom. We were marveling at how God can take seasons of living in captivity to hurt, confusion, and insecurity and move us from that place to a place of solid ground, soul-deep freedom, and relentless joy. We talked about how long, stormy and painful seasons – if well-weathered – eventually give way to bright, flowered pastures where we can dance and be light and liberated. I expressed that by the sweet grace of God, despite ongoing heartache and grief, I find myself in this place lately, this blooming field, and I feel my heart dancing freely through it. I shared how humbled and grateful I am that God has brought me here. And then my mom said:⁣
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“You know, He is using those tears you cried to water the field.”⁣
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You guys, this blew my mind.⁣
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How often do we try to wish away the painful seasons of life when we’re in the middle of them? We get tired of crying and exhausted by caring. The days seem to get longer, the hurt only gets deeper, and we feel like the misery will never end.⁣
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Let’s trust God and remember, it will end, and new things will spring from it (see Isaiah 43:19 – what a sweet promise!). The storm may last longer than we think it should, but we can trust that God is good and He knows what He is doing. While we wait on Him, let’s wrestle wisely and well, and let’s give our stories and the pen used to write them over to the ultimate Author. Let’s cry our hearts out if we need to, seek the Lord intently, humble ourselves deeply, and forgive daily. Our tears and prayers, our choice to surrender to truth and refining fire, our pain and questioning and grappling – none of it will go to waste. It will be the substance God uses to water and bring color to a field of wildflowers for us to dance, twirl, and run barefoot through.⁣ We will eventually look back and be thankful for those seasons of tears. They are desperately painful, to be sure. But they set the stage for wild beauty and abundant life to bloom.
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“After a day of cloud and wind and rain / Sometimes the setting sun breaks out again / And touching all the darksome woods with light / Smiles on the fields until they laugh and sing.” – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow