“…those long-ago deaths in the jungle were just part of her story. For Elisabeth, as for all of us, the most dramatic chapters may well be less significant than the daily faithfulness that traces the brave trajectory of a human life radically submitted to Christ.” Becoming Elisabeth Elliot, p 11
People often ask me about my story. I am at a point in my life where I’m willing and able to tell most of it. As I shared couple of weeks ago in church, I heard the gasps and responses of others experiencing our story for the first time. And what I shared was such a small part of it.
But as I stood there, looking back, I could see myself in the midst of those moments with wild thoughts, fears threatening to engulf me, and unable to SEE through the fog of the circumstance.
I see the war that raged in my own heart.
Today, in a much less tumultuous sea, there is still a storm that threatens. Not because of a life changing tragedy has called me to theICU, but because after years of daily faithfulness, I admit I’m weary.
I crave rest. Reprieve. Elim. But God hasn’t led that direction as of yet.
It is the daily brave that I find making me the most *threadbare today. I don’t want to get up AGAIN and do it all tomorrow. I want to hide under my covers, have someone bring me a cup of coffee, and give myself permission to imagine a different life.
One that I thought I’d be living.
But the truth is, small daily yeses have brought me here. And so, I won’t stop, though I want to. I won’t give in to the pull to self-medicate, though I know sometimes that is OK too.
I want to be a woman who accepts what the LORD has for me, and to be faithful. Whether it is a platform or a sink full of dirty dishes. Whether it is writing a book or sending an email. Whether it is “sit here and wait” or “take the next step.”
I simply want to do everything with complete obedience and faith.
“It was this theme of death that gives the narrative arc of her life…Again and again, if God so willed, always believing in His promise that real, robust, exhilarating life comes out of every death.” Becoming Elisabeth Elliot, p 13
Tiny deaths. Again and again. The biggest one being to myself.
P.S. I finished reading *Becoming Elisabeth Elliot by Ellen Vaughn this week. To say it has gripped my heart is an understatement. I highly recommend it and anxiously await the next book in the series on her writing life.