reaching toward home – LightWater Mission

A man who isolates himself seeks his own desire;
He rages against all wise judgment.
Proverbs 18:1 NKJV

an urge to escape

I wanted to get away. Surely a few hours to myself would reset the balance of my wavering patience, refuel my rapidly emptying tank of creativity, and regain the peace and clarity I felt was no longer within my grasp. My mothering was getting a bit snippy, and I didn’t want to continue further into monster mode.

I knew I needed rest and respite. I knew where I should go. Why do I so often fail to go there first? Still, the Lord is my Shepherd. He is ever so gracious and merciful, knowing exactly what to do when His beloved starts to wander off the path alone.

Mother’s Day, the day of my planned “escape” into isolation and rejuvenation, came in all its bright and sunny sweetness. Thoughts of a free afternoon beckoned. Should I paint a spring landscape, read without interruption, wander through town to admire all the flower gardens—or maybe all three?

The day before, I had scrolled through social media and read a tweet from a woman who encouraged moms not to “run away” from their families during the next day of celebration. I could feel my heart growl a little. What?! I couldn’t remember any Mom’s day where I had ever left the house on my own. Now, the very day I planned to do so, I was seeing messages like this one. Was that little poke and prod at my conscience … conviction? No. No. My hands went over my ears. No! I will not feel guilty for choosing to rest, I thought. (Are you seeing how this is going? Rebellion isn’t always stark raving and ranting. Mine was a little quieter in its pushback against sound judgment!)

a surprising detour

After church, my husband started the barbecue. I watched our children kick a soccer ball around, shifting into a spontaneous game of keep-away. Later, someone found the bubble jar. Rainbow spheres of soap danced in the light filtering through the blooming trees. I felt a deep contentment steal over me as I watched my kids flit about the yard like four jolly butterflies.

While they danced around, chasing the bubbles and each other, I sat with tears welling up in my eyes at these reminders of God’s goodness to me. There would be no escaping today; I didn’t really want to anymore. Gone was the desire to do what I wanted. Gone was the urge to drum up peace and rest of my own. After all, what did I really have to escape? Wasn’t I trying to out-maneuver a troublesome heart, one that was not exactly abiding in Jesus? Suddenly, I saw my pursuit of isolation as a pursuit of my own desires. It’s unlikely I would have found what I was looking for—patience, creativity, peace, and clarity—anyway. I could have returned home in the same shape or possibly worse!

As I sat there musing over my foolishness, I chuckled. Oh Lord, look what I might have missed if I had insisted on disappearing! He whispered back, Come to Me with your desires; there’s no need for you to go it alone. I hadn’t asked, yet He fulfilled my desires all the same. I saw a little prodigal son in myself at that moment; I saw his older brother, too. The first brother sought his desires outside his father’s house. The other remained in his father’s house, but simply never asked. Both reached for fulfillment elsewhere. Both turned away from their father in their time of need.

running back home

We ate lunch and my agenda for the day quickly changed to a new one. I surrendered willingly to God’s wisdom of rest. In fact, my heart no longer had any desire to leave at all. Instead of whisking myself away from my family, I reached toward them, too. A heavenly, Spirit-filled joy and rest rushed in, not of my making, but entirely of God’s. It was the most lovely day, and I had nothing to do with bringing it about.

Trying to deny a need within myself simply will not work. Neither will trying to gain something that only God can give. The issue at hand wasn’t that I was overworked, I think, but rather that I needed to deal with a heart that was stubborn and misguided.

Reaching toward one thing unavoidably requires distancing from another. In this case, I was pulling away from God and His wisdom, and from my family, to try and get my needs met. I was looking to my own enjoyments to obtain peace, rest, fulfillment—things that only He can provide.

My peace and contentment can’t be found anywhere else but with the Father. Looking back, I can see the ways that I refused to go to Him with my need. While I was grasping at straws, He was still reaching out to me, watching over me. His hand was always extended. The answer to my desire was right there the whole time. He was ready to meet me on the road. He was ready to meet me at the door.