Peace in the Rumbling

 

Deep calls to deep at the roar of your waterfalls;  all your waves and breakers have gone over me. (Psalm 42:7)

A few weeks ago, I found myself sitting on a calico rock nestled alongside a little cascading stream. It was tucked away, a crevice of rushing water concealed by leaves of emerald and mossy branches. Its steady downward flow was so soothing to my weary soul. 

Despite there being larger waterfalls in the area, this little series of rapids provided a steadiness my heart couldn’t help but fall into rhythm with. And though the water was murky from gathering soil particles, rocks, and mountain debris in this current rainy season, the coolness of those shallow waters was still very inviting. I stepped in up to my ankles and enjoyed the crisp cool as it seemed to flood all the parched places in me. 

But can I be honest for a minute? 

This year is proving itself to be exhausting in so many ways, and it’s been difficult for me to come to terms with that. I’m not sure if it’s because I long to appear strong, or wise, or graciously patient, or to avoid feeling like I’m failing. But it feels rather discouraging to still be standing in the same uncertain place where our family situation has lingered, for so many years with no end date. It’s also one of the reasons my husband and I decided to retreat for a few days — with the hope of finding solitude, time with the Lord, and space for rest and rejuvenation. 

Overlooking the rolling hills and lush valley landscape, we could hear the rumbling of the main waterfalls from our grass-thatched cabin. From the weathered wooden balcony I could see white water peeking out, hidden within the intermingling of olive, sage, and forest green foliage that covered the expansive hillside. 

Unfortunately, upon arriving the first night I was blindsided by a mounting headache which was then followed by chills. The following day I discovered my body was fighting against a not so old friend – malaria. 

I shouldn’t have been surprised. This was supposed to be a break from the overwhelm and exhaustion we had been feeling for months. Yet, as I sat journaling alongside the murmuring of the Abairo Falls outflow, tears welled up and frustration slowly started to pour out.  I struggled to release what had already begun to seep haphazardly from the cracks etched on my heart. 

My pen echoed the lament bubbling up and spilled out onto the lined paper — 

How long? How long can we thrive or even survive in this unknown season? We feel the weight and weariness from what seems a never-ending uphill battle. It’s like you are leading us to continually swim upstream without an end in sight. And I’m so exhausted, Lord. 

During our few days away, I didn’t really get the answer to my question or receive the structured timeline I always seem to be searching for. However, in the days that followed, words began to press themselves gently onto my heart like a healing balm laid upon wounds still fresh. Then like a cascade of strung-together phrases, they began to tumble over as I leaned in to catch the whispering of reminders I needed to hear. Maybe these reminders are for you too.  

Rest in the Lord

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Matthew 11:28-29 NIV)

There is such an incredible need to turn to the Lord daily for His renewing of our hearts and our minds. Finding rest in the Lord means trusting Him with our worry, our wondering, our waiting, our weariness, and our weakness. 

We can easily run dry from daily tasks, ministry responsibilities, uncertainties, unmet expectations, and a life in continual transition. He is waiting for us to be enveloped in the embrace of His overwhelming and steadfast love. As we abide in the Lord, we can find peace in middle of the swirling currents and rushing rivers.

What is keeping you from drawing close to the Lord? Is there something distracting you from turning to the One who offers abundance even in the wilderness seasons?

Reflect and Be Still

He says, “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” (Psalm 46:10 NIV)

In seasons of fatigue and burnout, it’s difficult not to expect yourself to function at the same pace you’ve been going. But it’s okay to admit you are weary and in need of support. 

Give yourself grace and create space to invite life-giving activities and solitude into your weekly rhythm. Inviting a rhythm of pause into your day can allow space to process the good and the hard in your life and give you an opportunity to slow down long enough to notice things you may not have otherwise. 

Sometimes your situation won’t allow for a sabbatical or longer break, so how can you create space to pause? Where can you make an intentional effort to carve out a few minutes or hour of reprieve or stillness in your day?

 

Release and Lament 

“For I will satisfy the weary soul, and every languishing soul I will replenish.” (Jeremiah 31:25 ESV)

Allowing ourselves to be honest and release our deepest thoughts or fears is where the unraveling begins. As we wrestle through our feelings, our situations, our struggling, we allow space for healing to trickle in through the gift of lament. 

Lamenting allows us to surrender what we can’t control, release our expectations, receive comfort from the Lord, reground ourselves in the His truth, and discover countless reasons to praise God right where we are.

Is there something you know needs to be laid down? How has the process of lamenting provided space to express yourself, rediscover gratitude, or gain a new perspective? 

Our testimony isn’t about the weakness and struggle we feel on a daily basis, but about His strength that will continue to carry us along. While we may be lingering in uncertain places longer than we like, I pray we keep our eyes looking up. May we dig deeper and continually reflect on the ways He is teaching us, comforting us, and lavishing his extraordinary love upon us. 

Even in the chaos of the unknown, he invites us to cling tighter to him. Even though the noise is deafening, we can know His perfect peace. Even when we are weary from the torrential currents, we can find rest.

And even when we feel empty, weathered, or worn, we can choose to dwell in the truth that He promises to give us rest, to replenish, and to sustain us with His river of life that will never, ever run dry.

____________________

*First published on A Life Overseas  - https://www.alifeoverseas.com/peace-in-the-rumbling/

*Photo by Marianne Colee