When God Sends an Old Friend to Revive You

Sometimes I get the feeling of mentally wearing a bike helmet, strapped into a window seat on the struggle bus. Lately it kinda feels like the bus is on fire, careening over a cliff, bumping and banging on every rock, shrub and boulder all the way down toward what looks like a happy little river but will most likely turn into Niagara Falls when we round the first happy little bend.

Ok, that might be just a little dramatic. A slightly more realistic depiction would be a cushy motor coach on a Sunday drive in a light rain. I’m probably still wearing the helmet and licking the window, super confused about how to get the cold rain from outside the bus to refresh me because life can REALLY dehydrate you.

In either scenario I’d be pleased to find an eject button or rip-cord to pull, for to be doing the stopping and the disembarking but nope. I keep looking, though.

I think I’m currently in my third month tryna read Henri Nouwen’s emotionally and spiritually dense A Cry For Mercy but it is probably more like six months. I’m usually all about a difficult read and often have a stack of four or five books that I’m reading simultaneously. Usually I choose non-fiction, the nerdier and more obscure the better. I usually prefer spiritual works and science, always knitting God and science in my head and heart because that’s how life makes the most sense to me. I usually devour a good book, especially thin books like this. Usually. Yet here I am on page 82 of 145. For months, people.

MONTHS TRAPPED IN A TINY BOOK.

Somebody send help.

And wine.

Good wine.

I’ve decided being stuck in Nouwen isn’t a reflection on my ability to read and comprehend. I think I’m stuck because this book is jam packed with truths. Truths God wants me to know about life in general and truths about my own life. Who knows, perhaps truths He wants you to know about your life, too. The hard thing about truth is that it isn’t always what we want it to be, it is what is.

Some days I read an incredibly personal passage, slam the book closed and look around for hidden cameras. “I’m not reading THAT for a while because it knows too much.”

Anyhooo… as the title says… enter the Old Friend.

Very early in our homeschool career we studied the masters and were particularly fascinated with vanGogh. His adept use of rich, bold colors and his terse yet fluid strokes engage like few other artists. I also have always loved how his own red beard appears in many of his paintings because Vince and I share a super power of injecting ourself into our work and seeing life through a “me” monocle.

I thought I had seen all his work and yet today right there on page 82 mention is made of vanGogh’s The Raising of Lazarus, with the bright sun representing God, in whose light all become new.

Um, excuse me? His raising of what now? We missed one. Maybe we didn’t really miss it but it was a divine plan that I not truly encounter it until today when I really needed a good resurrection.

Must. Know. More.

In the words of my brilliant brother-in-law: “Consult the Googles!”

I found the image and then whoosh down a rabbit hole I went finally landing on this webpage, a meditation written for the 5th Sunday of Lent 2011.

Ummmm, yeah, so yesterday was the 5th Sunday of Lent.

A “coincidence” like this is just too much to keep to myself.

Happy Monday, my loves ❤️

What is God calling you to that is outside your comfort zone but may just set you free?

Imma write.