A Breathe of Life

My attitude as a saint to sorrow and difficulty is not to ask that they may be prevented, but to ask that I may preserve the self God created me to be through every fire of sorrow. –Oswald Chambers

I may have a condo now but the journey to get here was one fire of sorrow that I don’t think I preserved the self God created me to be very well. It was definitely a struggle. The last few months have been what some people like to call a growing season. It started back in April when I felt like God was asking me to buy a house. One thing led to another and before I knew it, God was closing doors left and right yet was still asking me to pursue buying a house – all while trying to avoid signing a lease to rent.

Fast forward 6 months and I finally have a permanent home again but I am still processing everything that has happened. For the past 4 months, I have been floating between friends’ houses and couches always believing God would provide and that surely this would be my last stop in this crazy journey. But the stops kept coming. I looked at a lot of houses and none of them felt right with the exception of 2. Obviously those didn’t pan out. And this last one took over a month to work out.

At first I was ok but when you know God is asking you to do something but nothing is happening, after a while you tend to get a little frustrated. Then the never being settled, never having a home or a space to call my own began to take its toll. At one point, I told God I couldn’t do it any more. 2 months later I had the same conversation only this time I really meant it. It had gotten to the point where I literally couldn’t even think about tomorrow because I would usually end up in tears of frustration, not wanting to admit that tomorrow would be the same as today – with no end in sight.

Emotionally, spiritually and physically I couldn’t keep living the way I was – always floating, constantly arguing with and questioning God, not eating well or exercising and never knowing how much longer I’d have to crash on a couch or keep living out of a suitcase.

But finally God provided me with a perfect place to call home. And after settling in, I began to pray for the vision of this condo. After all, I started this process with the intention of it never being my house (or condo) but that it would be God’s so it was only right to ask what he wanted it to be.

And so I ended up in Ezekiel. Ezekiel 37 to be exact. As I began reading, I felt like I was reading a perfect recap of my life. I had shriveled up to dry bones. But I was missing the breath part. Like I had no life left in me. Somewhere along the way I had lost it. I could relate all too well when the house of Israel said in verse 11, “Our bones are dried up and our hope is gone; we are cut off.” I certainly felt dried up, hopeless and like I had been cut off from a lot of things – including God.

But God never leaves us there. He has not left me there. Just like he promised the house of Israel in verse 14, he is promising me that he will put his spirit in me and I will live. I will have life again. He will settle me in my own land (also known as a condo). I feel like God is calling me into a time of being settled. That is the one thing I know I have learned in this process. After being so unsettled and in such a transient state for a prolonged period of time, I realized how much I do want to settle down and plant roots – something I have avoided for years.

But now I feel God calling me out of the dry bone spell and into life – a settled life where I can breathe again. And that’s the vision and purpose for this space I’m in – that God will not only use it as a place for me to find life again but for everyone who comes here. I want it to be a space that encourages and uplifts, a safe place where frustrations can be released and tears can be shed but only to be replaced with hope and laughter and joy. Most of all I want this condo to be a place where people (including myself) can catch their breath, can stop and breathe and experience the fullness of life that only God can give.

I am excited to enter into and receive God’s breath, to catch his cadence and rhythm again, to be settled in him so that when the next fire of sorrow finds its way to me, I will be better able to preserve the self God created me to be.