Transition and Waiting for God

Let's be honest. Transition sucks. It's uncomfortable. Unknown. And awkward. The first thing that I think about is junior high. Pimples. Braces. Too skinny. Too fat. Identity crisis. Discovering yourself. Obviously, there are much more powerful, life changing moments of transition that alter the very core of who we are, but, to me, this picture of transition really frames the unappetizing nature of change at times.

I've been spending the past week trying to figure out what the next year of my life holds. The catalyst was a phone call from the admissions department of Azusa Pacific University where I heard the words, "You didn't get the scholarship. But you're fifth runner up. Congrats!" Now, this wouldn't be an enormous deal if I came from an independently wealthy family, or if this school charged a reasonable amount of money to go there. But being a financially independent broke 20-year-old applying to a school that costs more than I make in a year currently, what do you do when you miss a full ride by an inch?

I'd like to think that my immediate answer was pray, but let's face it, my immediate answer was (1) call everyone important in my life and ask what the hell I should do with myself for the next year (2) eat really delicious food (pizza, burritos, Trentas; I went all the way) and (3) oscillate between feeling like barfing and putting on an "it's-okay-it's-not-a-big-deal" face. It wasn't until about two days after the incident that I was able to hear God's voice calling out to me.

After telling everyone what they expected to hear, or what I expected to hear, or what I thought they wanted to hear, or what I thought they should want to hear, I finally got to the point where I realized the most important thing to hear in all of this conversation that was going on was what God wanted to tell me. And creating space to hear that.

It reminded me of 1 Kings 19 when the Lord leads Elijah to the mountain Horeb after he's fleeing death threats. It says that, proceeding God, there came "a powerful wind that shattered rocks," a devastating earthquake, and a raging fire, but the Lord was neither in the wind, nor the earthquake, nor the fire. He was in the "gentle whisper" that followed.

So what do we do? What do we do in the midst of a rock-shattering windstorm? What do we do when we face the unknown and all we find is distractions of our own making, or quite possibly, that God allows existing?

We honor God. We lift Him up even when, especially when, things are not going well and when there are no answers. We ride out the distractions, or repent of those that we make ourselves, and we set our sights on the God who will come in the whisper that follows our brokenness.

(Added in after rereading this post later on) How do we do that? We invest in our community and share our burdens with others. We continue life. We seek space for God to speak into. And I'm not just talking a yoga pose under a tree (though I totally encourage that if that's how you roll). Find somewhere/something that moves you. And go there/do it. Make a post-it chart of all your possible decisions and walk away. But don't dwell on the natural disasters. Because God's not in them.

I'll keep you updated on my natural disaster of a life, but what's going on with you? What earthquake does God have you in right now? What is he whispering to you in the midst of chaos?