Season of Sweetness

Season of Sweetness

It was all to familiar a feeling, and yet it was completely brand new to me. Yet in that moment I had the sense that I had known this truth and warmth since the moment I breathed my first breath.

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Waves crashed against the side of my boat as I headed to a place I had never been. My first chance to be genuinely alone in months. As my boat made it’s way across Lake Atitlan I inhaled deeply the misty air that surrounded me. Locals packed in beside me, all while attempting to speak to me in their broken English and me to them in my even more broken Spanish. I was at home.

I felt the familiar rush of having no idea where my final location was, and wondering if I would miss my destination entirely. Eventually I was dropped off at a tiny pier marking the entrance to my lakeside hostel. I walked around aimlessly long enough for people to take notice and asked me if they could help me. Deep inhale, yes, thank you. With a key in hand, I found my way to my private room. Deep inhale, I’m alone, finally. 

I made a last minute decision to go off on a retreat to be with the father and no one else. I made a decision to break away from the teams, to regenerate. Rest had seemed elusive for months, my only request was, “Lord meet me here”.

I held my hands wide open to what was in store. Apprehension, mixed with curiosity and excitement. I was alone in a foreign country at least an hour boat ride away from everyone I knew. It sounded like the beginning of a what not to do in a foreign country speech that I had heard more times then I can recount. Yet, it was beautiful.

The previous two months I had been in limbo, which left me pulled in two opposing directions. One which said “You make a difference” and the other that said “Why are you even here?”.  I couldn’t put my finger on what I needed but I knew enough to pull away to give me time to figure it out. I left with a promise that I would not be alone. He would meet me here.

As I shut the door behind me for the first time, I found myself wanting to escape the silence, afraid that it would speak to loud the things I didn’t want to hear.  Hands wide open, I waited until he met me, choosing to embrace the silence.  He spoke.

He spoke through the breathtaking view of the lake from my window. In the fall leaves scattered across the roof in the middle of summer. I found him in the breeze that cradled me as I shut myself tightly in my comforter inhaling the lake air. I found him in the paper thin walls echoing the beautiful voice of the girl next door as she strummed her guitar.  Each new discovery hit a deep place in my heart, engrossing me more in who he is.

The beauty that overtook me in that evening, was far more then I had envisioned for my time away. The intricacy of each detail made up a picture of what I had been missing. Leaves on the roof and a gentle breeze blowing into my room, when I had been grieving missing fall again for the second year in a row. Soft, gentle music sweeping through my room, the one thing that makes my spirit soar. Silence that spoke not things I didn’t want to hear but instead whispered, “You are known”. Silence that screamed, “I love you”.

It was there in that private room, overlooking the lake, separated from everything I knew that I understood the truth of those words for the first time. I am known. Not known in the “hey your one of the multitude down there, hit me up when your next crisis comes along” but known in the “I know every aspect of your heart, so much so that even the minuet things don’t escape my notice”.  

My heart nuzzled safely back into his hands as I trusted once again that I am not alone.

My most recent season with the father can be summed up in that one night hidden in the middle of nowhere Guatemala. Sweetness. I am in a season of sweetness with the father, my father. I started the year by asking him to just meet me here, to show up in my weariness, and disillusionment. He did.

It has been a steady stream of the deepest desires of my heart and longings I have kept tucked safely away coming to the surface and being realized. A season of knowing deeply that I am known, and nothing has gone unnoticed.  In it all, I sit with my hands wide open as I relearn to embrace the silence.

It’s not easy, but it is so good.  Familiar and warm, I rest in knowing I am known and the desires of my heart matter.