Sometimes the way back is the way forward. The way down is the way through.
It’s like you’re in a pit while everyone else is walking on a nice concrete path that’s manicured with green grass. You feel sad at first that you’re missing out, that you’re stuck in this pit. You wonder why God would allow this to happen.
Well-meaning people will give you all sorts of advice to get out and get back on the main path. People will pass your pit and give you stares, will offer you ropes that turn out to be flimsy pieces of string. In the beginning, you might try a thousand schemes to get out of the pit. You might run toward the muddy walls and continuously slide back down. You might claw at the ground in an attempt to escape. You might scream at every passerby only to find that they keep walking and can’t hear you. And then you might lose hope.
But then when you’re finally sitting and being still, God will speak. And he’ll say, “Instead of seeking the main path, why don’t you start digging here?” Start digging? In this ugly mud? It seems futile and boring and sad and lonely. You wonder why all the other people get to have lovely things and green grass and you’re stuck here. Is it your fault? Should you keep fighting to get up there? Because you’ve been digging in the mud for a while and all you get is more mud. But again, God says, “Keep digging. The life is down here.” So you dig.
And suddenly, you see a shoot of something green. It captivates you. You forget about the other people and their path and suddenly you’re intoxicated by this new thing before you. The people walking by keep trying to give you tips to be up there with them, but you ignore them, knowing you’re on to something. They give you strange looks because you’re covered in muck and mire and how could you possibly see purpose or good things in the middle of all that mud? But you do.
And as you dig more, more and more green shows itself. And then, a puddle of water forms. And all of a sudden, the ground is giving way, you’re sinking, and then you fall into a special cavern where there’s the bluest water you’ve ever seen. You drink it and it is delicious. It makes you feel good. Makes you feel alive. You’re not really sure where you’re going anymore, but you’re following the flow of the water. It looks like you’re off the map and lost, but you have faith that this is where you’re supposed to be. It doesn’t look good like that concrete path. But it feels good in your gut. It’s still hard. You’re still fumbling in the dark a lot and you’re dirty and you’re doing your best to take steps every day. But you just know this is where the life is.
And then a tiny light becomes clear up in the distance. As you walk, it gets bigger and bigger until you’re walking through a portal and before you is a whole ocean. You look back and see, what you thought was the best concrete path before is actually just a thing that goes in a big circle. What you thought was initially tragedy and abandonment and hardship was actually the pathway to the holy, to the beyond. It wasn’t God punishing you. It was God saving you, setting you apart, loving you.
That the upper ground might look grand and adventurous, but it’s actually the lower ground where the life runs. It’s actually here where you gained the best stuff. The world is flipped right side up for the first time and you see everything.
This is where I am now. I am approaching that light, the place of miracles and truth and everything good. I can hear the waves lapping the shore. I can smell the saltwater. It still looks dark and muddy and like I am going backward. But I am on the verge of something more beautiful than I’ve ever known. I’m on the way to my destiny.
