This dry and desert land, I tell myself keep walkin' on.

Photo courtesy of Because I'm Addicted.

I have to be really honest with you about something.
 

Guess it was back when I used to rock my plaid skirt and crested cardigan at Trinity. I distinctly remember popcorn-reading Joshua in class. And some kid got the verse with this word: Hamstringing. I have no clue how many years have passed. But this noun has reserved a spot in my mind-catalog ever since. Essentially, hamstringing is a war technique where the muscle in question is sliced. Dunno 'bout you, but that phrase alone makes my legs feel immobile. Crippled. Ever felt like that?

Lately, that word's been on my mind.
I'm hamstringed (hamstrung?).
Crawling.
Weak.

I've got a month until I jet out to Phoenix for my last ADPi work trip, but 'til then? Welp. Just job searchin', kinda. Pretending I don't really live in a city I swore I'd never reside in between college and family life. A city I know like the back of my hand. A city where your last name goes ahead and gives people a sketch of who you are before you pop your mouth open.

To a 22-year-old, adventure-hungry, travel-loving, firecracker-type girl?

This is rough.

Then a beautiful sister in Christ showed me Deuteronomy 8.

Hey.

I know that desert.

I'm being fed that manna. Manna I don't want. Manna I've never seen before.

"To humble and test me so that in the end it might go well with me."

Good land will come.

Because You caused me to hunger.

Why?

So You could feed me this manna.

Because You discipline me in love.

I feel like I'm already in that Phoenix desert. There is a heart-change going on inside of me now. One I pray--PRAY--that when this sweet, aching spell breaks, I'll remember. Because I'm absolutely at His feet every day.

Seeing that maybe I'm home to face giants.

Giants, aka "Lessons I Hate Learning."

But lessons that are 1 Corinthians 13 in nature:

To learn again how to submit.

To learn how to seek the opposite of myself.

To look materialism in the eye (more on this later).

To learn patience.

David faced his giant with You. Teach me how to face my giants, Lord.

Because for now, I'm okay in this desert. I'm okay crawled up in the shadow of Your wings.

"This dry and desert land, I tell myself keep walking on.

Hear something up ahead, water falling like a song.

An everlasting stream / Your river carries me home,

All my fountains are in You."

- Chris Tomlin, "All My Fountains"

And if you feel stranded, you should go read Deut. 8. Because you're really not stranded at all.

That's all.