I often get impatient with my spiritual journey. Lately I’ve been frustrated. I look at the words I write to my Saviour, I listen to the thoughts that come through my mind, and I listen to the words and counsel of others in my life and I think to myself: “I’ve already been here!” I am supposed to be finished here! God brought me through this! What did I do wrong? Why am I back to this place?
Then I thought of something. My parents and I used to travel a lot when I was younger because we did not live close to either of my sets of grandparents. So, come the days before thanksgiving or before Christmas and we would pack up the suitcases, get in the car and to Grandmother’s house we would go!
Often those trips seemed to drag on. Would those mountains lining the highway in West Virginia ever cease? For some reason, the trip through West Virginia seemed to take forever, and those mountains never changed. Red clay, brown rocks and an occasional branch out the side lay outside my window for a second, till the next second brought red clay, brown rocks and a branch sticking out of the mountain. So, like any good kid travelling in the back seat, I asked, more than once, “Are we there yet?”
Every year until I was thirteen we made a trip to either Ohio or Pennsylvania, or both. Then, in 2002 we moved to Ohio, and we ceased our trips through West Virginia. But, as I thought on my own spiritual journey, I was reminded of that physical journey that I made for so many years.
Christians always talk about letting God have control of our lives. God should be the driver, the navigator of each of our spiritual journeys. So, if I have let God drive me through my spiritual journey, then what am I doing wondering why I am where I am? I keep thinking to myself (I know that God never hears what I tell myself [said quite sarcastically]) “Why am I not there?” or “Why do I still see red clay, brown rocks and green branches?”, “Why am I not out of West Virginia?”
God knows me: Psalms 139:1-5 “O LORD, thou hast searched me, and known me. Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thoughts afar off. Thou compassest my path and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways. For there is not a word in my tongue, but, lo, O LORD, thou knowest it altogether. Thou hast beset me behind and before, and laid thine hand upon me.”
God knows what I need in order to be more like Himself. So instead of asking myself, or even My Redeemer, “Why am I here?” or “Why have I come back to this point?” I need to say instead “Thy will be done”