The Space in the Middle

Somewhere, in between here and there is a significant amount of space. Somewhere, in between this side and that side of the bridge is the middle. And in between Piura and Chicago is the middle of my life, an unnamed land. Completely uncharted territory. The land is the territory of the heart that only God knows. It’s new land and undiscovered territory for what I’ve seen and heard this time in Piura, Peru – changed I most certainly am. For I believe my heart has incredibly grown.

My heart like yours is worn torn and seen more battles than one cares to know, however some scars still physically show. That’s ok, it’s always a surprising story to the one who asks. For example, the bump on my forehead – everyone wants to know. I tell them that old stuff no longer takes residence in my heart, but the scars still show.

Somehow, by the grace of God I made it through all that. A true resurrection story. Now here I am, but there’s something new. For so many times I’ve seen the transfiguration before my eyes. In a casa, the clinic and oh so many villages. On the street and in the pews, and of course the far out village of Monte Castillo.

Oh a sight to be seen and surely one to be told. Yet, I know coming down this mountain is something very new. Oh so hard too. Maybe, I could stay right here O’Lord I ask? I’ve already decided I’m gonna take it slow. He’ll wait I know.

What is this stirring deep within my soul? Anxiety it’s not, that I know. Yet, you are something knew that I do not know. You’re taking up space day by day. And setting up shop in the casa of my soul. It’s permanent residence you desire and residence I must provide. Yet, I fight and and I fight, and flee I try.

As I sit here, day after day in the middle of this bridge I wonder and ponder all that. On the way each day I stop and buy just one tangerine. Here the color of the fruit is so vibrant to me. It reminds me of how one’s life is vibrant and full, when their heart is set on fire for God. The sweetness of the fruit is as sweet, as the essence of His love. Yet, to get to the sweet spot you must peel it all back. No fun I say!

Now, I know why I fell in love with the fruit market at the beginning of my trip. The color, the vibrancy, and the life take my breath away. I realize the decisions that bear the most fruit for the kingdom are the way to go. For holiness will surely be found that way. And saints we are all called to be.

But in between final decisions, the chaos of not knowing – fear creeps in. Worry takes root and we become unsure and paralyzed. We convince ourselves we must choose and now decide. Choose now on the job, the place to live, the college to apply and on and on. Is it medical school or not? Go back to work or retire? Move again or settle in? Go home or stay in this place. Oh, I do not know, nor do they for sure. That’s ok, for God surely waits for us all.

Whatever it is we are convinced a decision must be made, as if it’s life and death. Death, like it’s our last breath. When in reality it’s not the decision that is stressful at all, but the pressure and time we put on it to decide. And in comes fear, one of the devil’s favorite tools in the spiritual shed.

But we also know something is dying in side, and must ultimately go. Somehow it’s slowly being choked away with no breath of life. Oh, it fights and it fights and we all feel the pain, but no transformation comes without a little pain. We either buckle in or jump off this ride. Only one ride is more holier than the other, and we all know it to be true. Of course, the Lord brings the pruning sheers for the ride. Again, no fun I say!

And so you buckle in, as you know this familiar ride. You want off, but know you must ride. Up and down the hills you go. Winding around and around through blind corners and sights. What is it God you want me to grieve and let go? I know I ask, do you?

This time around your grateful to have a faithful companion to ride by your side. And so you cling to Jesus, the lover of your soul. You beg Him not to let go, because this time you have no idea where the road goes.

We are all in a hurry, a rush, and we want to know. However, there is something in between on this ride. Something that must be learned or maybe lost I do not know. Either way, something that once had life is slowly dying inside. The beauty is now greater on the other side.

It’s strange or maybe not strange at all. The workings of God are still a mystery to all. So many people I’ve missioned with along the way are just like me, all in between. Many are somewhere in the middle of something, and all are in between. Each one has an unnamed landscape in their heart waiting to be explored and discovered.

For revelation is waiting. The word “revelation” comes from the Greek word apokalupsis, which means to unveil or uncover something that was hidden. We all are waiting for the hidden to be revealed. For some it excites and others it causes distress.

But are all pilgrim people on the way. Therefore, we all come as travelers carrying weight. Weight, we didn’t know we owned and yet, it’s taking rent inside our hearts and souls. Sometimes we find it on our own and then some how in the voice of another, revelation comes – it’s a voice so bold, so true, you know it must be the voice of the one true God. For a prophet is in the midst. So prophesy is spoken over you and you take note and say to your self pay attention pilgrim. Even though, you have no idea what to do next.

And so sometimes you do the next best thing, whatever it might be. Something like taking the next breath. Ahhh.

Or going for a walk, back to the middle of that bridge. For in the middle more revelation comes.

Maybe in Piura some of us found answers or maybe some only left with more questions. I do not know. Life is funny sometimes, as it can be a season of answers or one of questions, either way it’s God who reveals. His light guides the way and no revelation comes without a relationship with Jesus.


To adoration I must go….

Maybe you too can find your way there.

Jesus waits for you as you sit in between here and there.

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