Everything seemed to just be drying up. No job. No car. No apartment. And no return on a pretty hefty business investment. Worst of all, my relationship with my mother had become stale as week old bread.
2012, the year of authority, washed onto the scene bringing a newness of life, a new church family, a new perspective on abundance and most amazingly a new encounter with God as my beloved Father, or rather me as His beloved daughter. I've learned scads about love and acceptance and how utterly, shamefully crappy it is when you try to find them in people, places and things where they do not reside.
Thus, I'm still on my journey to the Promised Land. I thought, by now, I would have arrived. Unfortunately, unwittingly, I have settled for what's on the "this side of Jordan." Why? Daddy issues? Nope. Fear? Not really. Mommy issues? Kinda, but not totally. Not dreaming big enough? Nah, I have big, BIG dreams. The problem, as I recently discovered, is that I didn't believe they could or should be any more than dreams. Here's a lesson on mountain climbing that I wish I had learned long ago.
It doesn't matter how many tools you have, how good your gear may be, how many lessons you've taken or how many people want to climb the mountain with you if you don't believe that getting to the top is better than being at the bottom.
I now have fresh understanding and revelation that spurs me on to get out of the wilderness once and for all: to trust in the Lord, my hope, to follow Him into my promised land, to plant myself firmly by the river and draw from it daily, to grow, to bare fruit, to be evergreen.