We went home to Kentucky for Thanksgiving. I boarded the flight and carried on a funk. It sat by my feet and never left my sight. I wrote two blogs trying to process and shake it. Neither encouraged me enough to share, so I didn’t figure they’d encourage anyone else either. We had a great time with family, celebrating what God had done over the last year. The company and the scenic view were a breath of fresh air. Yet my funk still sat there on the nightstand in my rented room. I kept coming back to it like the inflammation in my eyes that just won’t go away.
I’ve struggled over the last little bit to hold tight to any dream. I know I’ve heard encouragement from heaven to do so, but the admonishment just keeps slipping through my fingers. I can’t seem to find anything concrete about mine to hang on to. I’ve been holding them up to the Word; rolling them around in the light of it and looking for holes. The shadows of it all have been unnerving and scary. Every night, it brings me back to the same funk…waiting for me, confusing me, and weighing me down.
Then this morning on the way out of town, God reminded me of all the seasons I’d spent here. The season in high school: unsure, full of dreams, but apprehensive. The season before I married, after I’d married, and after a bad church employment. All of those seasons were full of both desperate prayers and answered prayers. I heard the Holy Spirit whisper, “I’m still the God that answers prayers.” I remember that God has always come through. He always did the impossible in my life. As we passed Lake Cumberland, lower than I’ve ever seen it, I heard the Holy Spirit say, “Just like the lake: you will rise again in due season.”
Everywhere I look is an answered prayer; proof of a God that listens. Everywhere I look I see a history that proves it. I see Him on every page of my life. He is still the God that answers prayers. This I know, because my life is a testimony of it. This morning, I am so very thankful for it. So, I bagged up the funk and sent it to the trash bin by the road as we packed up. I boarded the flight home a little lighter. I landed in Florida…thankful. I will stand on the promises of the Savior that bled for me, I will keep my testimony near, and by both I know that I will overcome. He’s done it before, and He will do it again.