Duty and Destiny

I didn't want to go. I didn't want to go like a five-year-old doesn't want to drink that cough syrup all our moms have made us take at some point. You watch it, tiptoe around it, and maybe she just won't notice. I mean, this cough isn't that bad. I'm sure I'll get over it.

But that's the thing about God. He isn't in the business of bandaids. He calls us to fullness of healing and greater tomorrows. I had a bitter pill to swallow in order to do what I knew in my gut He wanted me to do. So I went.

Scared.

Heartbroken.

Frustrated.

Like a bone, He allowed me to be broken so that I could be set in a familiar place, but in the right way; to heal properly. Can I tell you a secret? Just between us?

It worked.

I fell back into old steps like never before and joy flooded my soul. What I first saw as my duty became a part of my destiny in Christ. I was completely and utterly dependent on Him to form something out of my brokenness and it was beautiful.

You see, sometimes God sends us back into the desert we just came out of with a map. Like, "Okay, you've been here before. Now what can you do differently this time?" Did you know that the Israelites, the ones who wandered in the desert for forty years were actually only a few days' journey from their destination originally? God let them wander so that they would learn to trust Him, wholeheartedly, before leading them straight into the Promised Land.

I say all this to say that God could have offered me the same opportunities in the place I was in. I wouldn't have had to say goodbyes or hurt or deal with the bitterness. But He allowed me to be broken so that I could be set in right standing with a direct map to the Promised Land, more abundant than before. He wanted my duty to become a wonderful destiny, replacing the old memories with new ones. I am thankful for the heartache in the long run. I am. Because God's grace is bigger than me and it always will be.


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