Many times, as you are living a difficult portion of your journey, you wonder when or if it’s ever going to end. There is some proverbial sense that the darkness will loom permanently. Like Job, you sit there in the ashes wondering when your suffering will end and when you rise from that pile.
Then mysteriously one day, the fog begins to lift. There is a new felt clarity that this phase of your life is ending, and the next one is starting. To discern how this process unfolds would be likened to trying to analyze where a balloon lands when it’s released into the sky, floating away until the eye can no longer recognize it. It’s mysteriously magical and yet somehow the balloon lands somewhere, somehow. Lifting beyond the forces of gravity and then landing somewhere else in time and space.
So here I am two months since I believe my healing commenced. There was an exact moment in time I will never forget. Then rapidly, my strength began returning.
Part of me has been reticent to share details because it all feels so fresh. Like a newborn baby you aren’t sure you want anyone else to hold. You have birthed this new creation and you want to stare into its face and behold the first few moments of new-life beauty.
Because will other people respect this treasure of yours? And you may be ferociously protective if they don’t...
For the longest time, you have labored in an excruciating season, and then it ends. This can also be a frightening place. A door has opened in this hallway of liminal space, and you are not sure you want to walk through.
What is on the other side? What will I find when I leave this haven, even as dark and wild and untamed as it has been. My wilderness season has served me. I have been consistently fed here, even if I lamented about not entering the Promised Land.
This is when the divine sweeps in like the helium to your balloon and says, “It’s time to rise”
You have been shriveled, deflated and sad for far too long - not fulfilling your purpose. Oh, you had some lessons to learn before you were ready to fly and hold “this air”. Something knew that your walls might burst wide open leaving you in worse shape if you were filled up too soon.
But here you are, like a hot air balloon. Ready to turn on the fire in all your soaring glory. The phoenix had to set herself on fire to rise. And so do you.
So here it is. The courageous igniting of the blaze that is about to burst forth. I don’t know what comes next, but I do know –
I’m on fire, and I’m ready to rise.