Ellizabeth Elliot once said, "In acceptance lieth peace." I've been pondering that quote lately. Aren't we all on a constant quest for more peace? Trauma brings continual temptations to freeze-up, run away or fight. The quest for peace can feel nearly impossible at times. Because really, how does one begin to accept the unacceptable? The sin, the shame, the pain: no one of God's daughters should ever have to face that. But here I am. Whether I like it or not, the unacceptable came. As I've pondered what it means to accept, I've come across three truths. I need to accept the dark providence that God has brought. The unacceptable is a whole lot easier to accept when I acknowledge that it too, is from the hand of God. God's sovereignty runs deep. Everything is completely under his control...the good, the bad, and the ugly. If I say that this trial is not from God, then God has no power to stop it and if God has no power to stop it, then God ceases to be God. If I'm on a quest for peace, that would be a complete dead end. So, I trust the loving hand of my father God and accept what he has brought. I may not ever understand it on this side of eternity, but God's sovereignty, even in dark providences, remains a soft pillow to lay my weary head on. I need to accept the instability that continues. Trauma brings so much instability. Life becomes completely unpredictable. That instability can last a very long time. Instability piled on pain can feel like constant tectonic tremors that leave you expecting another big earthquake. And you constantly have in the back of your head the question of whether or not you'd actually survive the next big one. I'm a gal that really likes my day in and day out routine. But that is clearly not the kind of life God has called me to for this season. I continue to press in to the instability, accept it and try to roll with it, knowing I'm gripped by God's grace. I need to accept the time to rest in the particularly close shelter of the Most High. There were times in Uganda where I would take a boda (motorcycle taxi) to town, only to get caught out in a true African down pour. When it rains in Uganda, everyone immediately takes shelter and waits it out. The Ugandans are usually all chill under the shelters, laughing and talking and enjoying themselves, no thought given to the time. But inevitably my American self would be pacing on the inside: ready for the rain to stop so that I could go about and do what I wanted to get done. And as the rain slowed to a drizzle, I may or may not have, on more than one occassion, tried to convince a boda driver to get going: "oh Sebo, the rain is only small, small. Please, can we go?" (and I was usually responded to with, "oh mama, the rain is still falling" or a request for a higher fare. haha!) I was thankful for the shelter, but I was ready to get on with life. And so it is now. I am in a particularly close shelter. When a Christian goes through a deep trial, God pulls her in more than normal. As Christians, we always abide in God's shelter. But during such raging storms? The shelter becomes particular and full. This is God's grace to suffering believers. And I am so thankful to be in God's close shelter because I know I'm safe, cared for, and loved, but at the same time part of me still fights back: I don't want to be in this shelter because it means the rain is still falling and the war is still raging and hurt still comes. Acceptance means being content with the storms raging and letting God keep me in his close shelter for as long he wants. I'm learning to accept this season and the grace that it brings. So there it is. Three things to accept when the unacceptable comes: dark providences, instability and the continuing need to stay in God's close shelter. Rather than freezing, fleeing or fighting while experiencing trauma, we can focus on what we can accept. Then even the painful stories can become more fully a part of the one Great Story and we can find peace to rest in. These were Benaiah's ducklings in Uganda who reminded us, while we watched them grow, to rest deeply in God's care. Despite all the threats to their fluffy little lives from dogs, cats, snakes and rats, they waddled around without a care in the world.
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Behold, I am doing a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. Isaiah 43:19 Archives
August 2020
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