My time in Edinburgh has continued to be a time of learning. Menial (yet momentous) things include how to work a radiator, how to get rid of a mouse, how to work an AGA (look it up. it takes roughly 5 hours to cook 1 potato), how to work the bathtub. These might sound like small victories- but when your heat hasn’t worked for a week and you feel like an idiot for most literally not even being able to LOCATE the drain, these are large victories.
Quick update: I began classes and I began my internship in the Scottish Parliament. I am confident I will learn a lot in this role, however I am also sure that even this will come with its own host of challenges. It’s too soon to tell what the Lord has in store for me there. I also skied in the French Alps. I was 100% the person that moms flagged and told their children to stay away from on the slopes. “Honey, if you ever see the girl in the blue helmet. Avert immediately. She’s unpredictable.”
For Christmas, my family each wrote me a series of letters to take abroad with me. They each specified a time or date to open. Some said things like “open when you miss home” or “open when you are traveling alone.” My dads were rather specific, thing like “open March 9th (pm),”– needless to say I’m curious about those.
One of my moms said to open “when God seems distant or even silent.”
Last week, one morning as I sat alone in my flat I ventured to my letter box and searched for this letter. I was honestly kinda mad that I had made it only 2 weeks before needing to open what I imagined being one of those middle-of-the-trip-kick-in-the-butt kinda letters. But I felt the urge and so I proceeded. It led me to Psalm 13. Perhaps one of the shortest chapters of the Bible. I’ve copied it below.
The first 4 verses David spends crying out to the Lord and begging for Him to appear. He even acknowledges how awful it would be if his enemies triumphed over him. In the margins of my Bible I found chicken scratch that wrote “when you cry out to God, you are in good company.” My moms letter talked about how David spent years and years crying out to God and waiting on Him. He was anointed in His youth and wasn’t led to the throne until he was 30- that’s a heck of a long time to be waiting.
Verse 5 takes a pretty drastic turn, as David praises the Lord and announces his confidence in Him. Another margin noted that in between verses 4 and 5, David was wrestling with God. Perhaps for hours. Perhaps for days. Perhaps for years.
My mom wrote:
“When you are doing what Jesus calls you to do, you can be assured that the enemy will attack. He never concentrates on secondary targets. So sometimes God brings us to the end of ourselves so that we are completely and utterly relying on Him. And sometimes, we stay there. years. (Jospeh, Paul, Abraham, David, can all attest to this!)”
A lot of my heart feels like I’m just wrestling with God. Whether it be over understanding timing or placement, over joy and fear, over peace and anxiety. It seems like a constant tug of war between me begging for Him to come closer, and me pleading for Him not to take another step.
I think I’m sitting between Psalm 13:4 and Psalm 13:5. And I think I’ve been here for awhile. And I think the Lord might be asking me to get comfortable. And I really don’t think that is such a bad thing anymore.
Perhaps the only thing the Lord is asking me to do while I’m here is to find joy in the waiting, to get over my fear of the nearness of God. To declare His victory before it even happens. To recognize, like David, that my salvation is so intimately connected with God’s victory that I trust even in the moments that feel lonely and quiet because I know that my defeat is His defeat. And He cannot be defeated.
I am reminded that my longing to move on from this place of waiting is Biblical. Because to some extent, this place of waiting will not end on this side of Heaven.
“For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.” 2 Corinthians 5:4
But I was also reminded of the guarantee we have been given. The next verse says that God has given us the Spirit as a deposit. A deposit is often the first installment of the rest of a payment. And for us, the Spirit is a physical promise of something more to come.
So yes, I very well might be stuck between two drastically different verses–and even more so I might be here for awhile. But I have taken hope that this deposit, “guaranteeing what is to come” promises an eternal intimacy with Jesus that will most certainly be worth the wait.
If you are joining me on this journey of prayer, or want to hop in for a brief moment, my prayer for the week is that I would join David in the cave in praising God for the rescue that has not yet happened.
I’d love to be praying for you, send prayer requests to firstname.lastname@example.org
Some of my favorite photos from the past few weeks, take a scroll: