Burdened

She’s known as a "fighter."

Her dad tells her to fight back.

I say, “Just walk away” and “Love your enemies.”

He’s a suspended student.

His teacher calls him an idiot.

I tell him to respect his authorities, to “bless those who curse you.”

He’s a Mexican.

He and his fellow classmates use racial slurs without restraint.

I say to remember that God loves us all the same, to “do good to those who hate you.”

She’s the teacher’s pet, the tattle-tale.

Her so called “friend” cusses her out, threatening to beat her up.

I say, “Forgive as you’ve been forgiven” and “Pray for those who spitefully use you.”

These are the kids who make me smile, make me laugh, make me cry. These are the kids who need Him most, hear truth least, starve for more. 

As I drive to meet “my” kids, I’m anxious to see their faces and excited to be with them. While entering the empty and quiet room, I whisper a prayer asking for protection, wisdom and the words to say. Driving away at the end of the day, I reflect on what seemed to be utter chaos. I remember the words I should have said. I wonder what I should have done instead. 

I question my ability, my impact, my strength, my resolve.

I imagine myself with a millstone around my neck - falling, drowning, in the sea. And I picture who, without Him, they could soon be. 

The words come to mind...

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” (Ephesians 6:12, ESV)

It’s not about how good or bad I am at my job, if I can see the difference I’m making, whether or not I feel strong, or how sure I am of my purpose. When I focus on these things (that is, myself), those evil forces start to win. 

“But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.” (1 Corinthians 15:57)

It’s about the power of Christ, in me, defeating the enemy. It’s about God doing amazing things through a human, Him using what a simple girl does and says today in a life tomorrow, a weak one saying “I am strong,” and a wanderer becoming more determined in her purpose to know Him.

“Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.” (I Corinthians 15:58)

Wandering Steps

"They looking back, all th' Eastern side beheld

Of Paradise, so late thir happie seat,

Wav'd over by that flaming Brand, the Gate

With dreadful Faces throng'd and fierie Armes:

Som natural tears they drop'd, but wip'd them soon;

The World was all before them, where to choose 

Thir place of rest, and Providence thir guide:

They hand in hand with wandring steps and slow, 

Through Eden took thir solitarie way."

(Paradise Lost, 12.641-49)

Sitting in the hard, metal desk in my Milton class, those never-ending questions run through my mind again: Why am I here? What am I going to do with my life? How can I know what Your will is? Can I mess up Your plan for my life or someone else's by making the wrong choice? Can you just tell me what to do? 

When I enrolled in this secular college a year and a half ago, I didn't think I'd find any answers to these questions. Yet today, on this last day of my sophmore year, it (almost) makes sense for the first time. Dr. Rice ends the semester by giving an illustration to explain the last lines of Paradise Lost, in which Milton refers to the doctrines of Providence and freewill.


"Imagine this: You're wandering through the maze of life, turning this way and that, trying to make all of the right turns. You can't see the end. In fact, you can't see anything but the option of taking one step to the left or to the right. You choose to go right, finding yourself at a dead end. So you go back to where you thought you were before and turn left this time. Stuck again. After some time, you look down at your hands and discover that you're holding a red string. Your eyes follow the string up, up, to a tower above you. And there, a man stands, holding the other end of the string. You realize he's been holding it all this time. He tells you that he can see the end of the maze; he knows the way out. You stand and wait. Tap your foot. Cross your arms. Looking up, you see that the man in the tower remains unmoved, watching silently. You tug on the string then wait some more. Nothing happens. So, holding the string tightly in your hands, you take a step forward. Then another. You begin to move more confidently. You take a sharp turn to the left. What was that? You feel a gentle pull on the string in the opposite direction. You hear a soft whisper floating through the wind from up above. You keep on going left, though. You walk right into a wall. Turning around to walk in another direction, you soon find yourself surrounded by walls. Frustrated, you flop down onto the ground, yanking on the string. Where to go now? Why won't the man in the tower just tell you which steps to take - which turns to make? Sighing, you take hold of the string again. This time, you take slow steps, stopping now and then. You wander through the maze, guided by that whisper, that gentle tug on the string."

I walk out of class into the parking lot, get into my car, and head for home. Rolling my windows down, I breathe in the fresh air and feel the last, few rays of sunlight warming my face. 

Pondering.

Sometimes, I forget that God can see the whole maze of my life. I neglect to ask Him for directions and make stupid mistakes. I often don't take advantage of the connection I have to Him through my relationship with Jesus. I ignore the whisper of the Holy Spirit, there to guide me with each step. Other times, I'm quite aware that God is watching above and become frustrated by that fact. Why doesn't He just tell me where to go? 

"If I answered all your questions now, you might just do things your own way and stop asking how," He gently reminds me. "If I told you with whom to go, you might start holding his hand instead of Mine. If I told you what My plan is, you might start focusing on that instead of your relationship with me. If I told you when, you might start living in the future, without me, for I AM present. If I told you where to go, you might start heading that direction too soon or completely stop asking for directions. And if I answered the question that you ask the most - why - you might stop asking me questions all together."

It is then that I remember why I am here. He created this maze to call me into a relationship with Him. While He gives me the freedom to choose which way I will go, the direction I will take He already knows. So when I wander off in the wrong direction, He is not surprised. My blunders do not thwart His plans. I do not create walls simply by walking into them. When I run into a dead end, however, He leads me back to where I wandered away. And we start over, together. Through this world to Paradise.