Down

I want to believe this one. I really do. With every fiber of my being I want to believe this is what God is telling me.

But it’s not easy.

I have been on an uphill climb for so long, that I don’t know what it looks like to go down. I don’t remember what it feels like for life to be simple and for things to make sense. For so long everything has gone up in flames, and shambles and shattered pieces are all I know.

But today, God told me down.

I squeezed in my neighborhood walk before work because I knew I would get home too late to walk around. So, at 11 AM with the sun shining brightly above me, I forced my feet to walk step by step up the hill. And I’ve done this walk a million times already, but doing it mid-morning instead of late evening when the breeze is blowing and the sun is setting is a completely different obstacle. Within minutes of leaving my house I was sweaty. I was also quickly frying and could feel the sunburns forming on my chest. But still, I walked step by step.

Towards the top of the hill the incline starts to pick up. So I lunged forward stretching my legs as far and comfortably as possible. I lunge and I lunge and I lunge. I know that first comes the hill then I’ll pass the truck with the banner ads and then I’ll almost be at the top. At this point my breathing has picked up and I’m internally pumping myself up because I know that I can do it. And I do. No surprise there. I get to the top of the hill, cross the street, wait at the island for the crosswalk to show me the walking man, and I turn around. Now it’s time to go down.

At this point I can breathe easy. I know that the hard part is over, and it’s only going to get easier from here. That first I’ll pass Uncle Herb and have a short conversation with him. Then I’ll walk down through all the chicks and chickens. And before you know it, I’ll be back home. Because the walk down is always much easier and much quicker than the walk up.

Going down I don’t have to pump myself up. I don’t have to exert my energy lunging forward. I just get to go. I get to coast along and enjoy the view until I get back to where I need to be.

That’s why I have a hard time believing that God is telling me down.

I want to believe it. I want to accept that life will get easier from this point forward. But I just don’t know how that’s possible.

Because the past couple years have been a whirlwind to say the least. They have been a flood of emotions and confusion and wrong turns. I have cried on more than one occasion because of heartbreak. I have cried many, many times from feeling like I’m about to combust. And I’ve cried simply from feeling like God isn’t working for my good. This is the life that I’ve been living. This is what I’m used to.

And don’t get me wrong, I’ve had good days. The past couple years haven’t been all dark, gray clouds. Even now I am feeling absolutely incredible. But deep down in my soul, I anticipate something going wrong. Because it seems like when it comes to the things I desire and dream about the most, God doesn’t want that to happen in my life.

So as God is telling me down and He’s comparing what’s to come to the ease of my walking downhill, I can’t help but doubt God. I can’t help but argue against Him and say, “That’s not going to happen.” And I hope I’m proven wrong. I hope that the track record holds up, and God continues to be right and I continue to be amazed by the things I least expected.

I went into this season of prayer and fasting expecting God to do big things. Things beyond my wildest expectation. Things I didn’t even think were possible. And maybe this is God telling me that He’s ready to begin. Maybe this is the starting point, and God’s just giving me a heads up because it’s about to get crazy. And instead of crazy disappointing and sad and painful, it’s going to get crazy wonderful and amazing and lovely.

Down.

I don’t know if I’m ready, but I’m sure this time that God will work for my good.