Potholes & Parking

I call two places home. One in Ohio and one in Pennsylvania. I travel the three hour path between the two all year long. In the spring, when winter thaws, I have to be on the lookout for two things while driving; deer and potholes.

I have safely avoided the deer thus far, but the potholes, that is literally impossible. I can't tell you which state is worse. The two states are known for their intense football rivalry and we all know who wins that one. Go Steelers!  But if PennDOT and ODOT are having a competition for rough roads, I'd say they are holding steady at a tie.

For those of you who are not from the northeast of the country, our potholes can swallow a compact car. It's a whole other take on defensive driving. If you hit big one, it will rattle you. I can think of many times I've spilled my coffee and then took a timid look in the rear view mirror for what parts have been knocked loose from my vehicle.  And for the next mile or so, I'd be lying if I told you I wasn't waiting for the thump thump thump of a flat tire.  I try to make a mental note of where the crater is so I don't hit it the next time I travel that road. When I successfully miss one that I've hit in the past I feel a certain victory over the blacktop bandit that at least warrants an audible "yes!" and a fist bump.

There is another obstacle in my path. One of personal nature. Think of it as a pothole formed not by snow and ice but by an emotional wound.  Just like those on the real road, left unattended it gets worse. And when it swallows me, sometimes I don't keep going, I get stopped. Even if I climb out of the hole, I am so irritated with myself for falling into it to begin with that I can't seem to get moving again. Rather, I sit, mulling over the pain and commiserating with all the negative emotions. My world gets rattled and according to Pastor Tom Brink,  I am now parked next to the pothole.

I have worked hard at emotional healing. I spend lots of time with Jesus, I have godly people in my life who lovingly correct me, and I have worked the programs and done the soul care to get well. I'm grateful for all those things but the biggest blessing is the trust that I have in God's plan and His goodness. Holding onto that keeps me from wavering when things are hard. But…there is that lingering wound that I still trips me up occasionally. The last time that happened I fell deep into that hole. I was shook. I found myself  afraid of the future and feeling anxious.  So, I packed up myself and my dog and took that three hour trip to Pennsylvania for some solitude on the side of the mountain in my little cabin. There, in the absence of distraction, is my "thin space", where heaven and earth overlap and God's voice softly booms.

I made an unabridged list of everything I was afraid of.  One fear led to another and the result was a mental detour from my normal determination and independence.  "What if the people I love the most don't choose me? What if this hurt never heals? What if my fragile finances collapse? What if this physical pain gets worse?"  All of it… I wrote it all down. 17 bullet points in all. Good grief. I felt neurotic. I didn't feel like myself and God felt distant.

So I walked with my list and talked with God. As I walked the well-worn roads around camp I pictured God above watching and in control, Jesus holding my hand as we trod the muddy gravel roads, and The Spirit delivering my prayers between Heaven and Earth. That's quite an audience. It didn't take long for my list to feel petty and burdensome. I started to care less about the things on the list and more about why I had fallen into a rut I should have seen coming. As soon as I verbalized that question I "heard" the answer. "Because your list is all about you". I looked at the list. Yup, He was right and I felt a little embarrassed for not noticing sooner. Each item on my list centered around me and my limitations or the limitations of the people I love. How foolish of me. I know better. I am as flawed as they come so any list focused on me would most assuredly lead into a ditch.

In a split second, that list became a thing of the past and I put it down. My mind was flooded with the memories of God's goodness and provision both practical and personal. The more I thought about Him, instead of me, the further my fears faded into the distance. He gently pointed to the root of the pain where it had all started. When I saw it I was not surprised. I always say the devil has no new tricks.

I felt myself drive away from that pothole - no missing pieces and no flat tire.  I see myself more clearly now and my faith in God's goodness is deeper. The next time I feel the road get bumpy I will make sure my thoughts are on Him instead of me. I'm asking Him to continue healing that wound. In the meantime, I will be watching the road and checking who is at the center of my thoughts. 

Life is hard, I think there will always be potholes, but you don't have to park next to them.