They were in the closet downstairs: a pair of oversized hiking boots and a black cap. I purposely sat them out on the table so Logan wouldn’t forget to wear shoes on her hike into the wilderness or a cap to protect her from the hot sun and the nasty ticks. I was nostalgic, remembering the same journey I embarked on two years before. In my heart, I knew the Lord had something in store for her—a new adventure in her journey and a new chapter in her story book. On the first day of my camping trip two years ago, we camped on a green terrace outside of Spelman. I remember gazing up at the moon and the stars, my eyes were growing heavy from the days’ adventures. I was finally here in Princeton, but something inside of me didn’t feel right. The beauty of those stars could not calm the stinging pain, the bitterness, the emptiness, and the anger that had overtaken me. I remember praying to the Lord that night, asking Him to show me the way and to guide me on my walk. I felt stranded and isolated, abandoned and lonely. The stars seemed so far away and the moon was but a passing mirage in my fading vision. In the often overly quoted verses in Psalm 23, David writes about Jehovah as his strength and his peace: “He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside waters of rest. He restores my soul; He guides me on the paths of righteousness / For His name’s sake. Even though I walk / Through the valley of the shadow of death, / I do not fear evil, / For You are with me; / Your rod and Your staff. / They comfort me.” That night, I walked into the death valley. I experienced what David wrote. I was surrounded and enclosed by insurmountable walls—choking in darkness, my eyes blinded by the shadows around me. And that was my first year of Princeton. There were moments, many moments actually, of His shining and His grace. In fact, He was always there; I was just too blind to see Him. Many things were revealed. Many tears were cried. But these fleeting moments were swallowed up by the valley of death, a chasing shadow that I could not escape from. The valley was nothing more than my self . . . my pitiful thoughts, my calculating opinions, and my strong will. In Psalm 84, David writes about passing through the Valley of Baca or the Valley of Tears: “Passing through the valley of Baca, / They make it a spring; / Indeed the early rain covers it with blessings.” I was looking at my wretched self—my pitiful Princeton career. I always felt that one day, these things would pass away. One day, I would just grow up and just be different. One day, I would just walk through this valley and be fine. The Lord revealed to me that my suffering and pain was for the spring He was building inside of me—the living fountain that was waiting to rush out of me and overflow from my vessel. Life is a process and it for sure isn’t an easy one. As I placed the boots and cap on the table, I thought to myself how far I’ve come and how much farther I hope to go. I realized that those valleys, those tears, and those moments of utter darkness were all part of the Lord’s plan to restore my soul and recover my being. The Israelites wandered in the wilderness for 40 years. I pray that I will not have to wander aimlessly through my life any longer, that Princeton can be a different Princeton, that my life can be a different life, and that I can be a truly transformed vessel for the Lord. When Logan gazes at the moon and the stars—when she sleeps on that same bed of grass, I am sure she will be reminded of these moments, the too-many-to-count fingerprints in our lives that act as a stamp of the Lord’s ownership over us. I know she will have an altogether different experience—one not clouded by the mind, emotions, and will of a once immature boy. What a joy it is to struggle, to feel pain, to die to our selves, to suffer, to cry. This is true freedom. But I am thankful the journey doesn’t stop in the wilderness. It doesn’t stop in the middle of the valley. There is always that danger, though. But it is a choice. We can choose to continue wandering or we can put an end to our self-striving, put on our caps and hiking boots, and cross over into the Promised Land. -Samuel C
1 Comment
Lauren
9/16/2014 10:22:35 pm
Egypt --> the great wilderness --> the Good Land!
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