I like watching shows like Kitchen Nightmares or Bar Rescue where a professional swoops in, analyzes what’s gone wrong, then cleans things up with a team of miraculous worker bees. And yet, the people who inspire me the most in these shows aren’t the saviors who brave the dungeon or the servers who’ve stuck with their hourly jobs or the customers who for some reason come back to the chaos–it’s the ones who own the dying business that I find the most compelling. I can only imagine how it must feel to see things transformed from dire to hopeful over the course of a few days. To be alive with a dream, to see it begin, then falter, then almost crumble would be heartbreaking. I’m sure none of those restaurant owners set out to fail. They all had the passion, but somewhere along the line they lost the inspiration and things began to get dull.
Like the restaurant owners, we all need a wakeup call that something isn’t right. Often we already know, but we feel so overwhelmed by the mire that we can’t see the life preserver dangling a few feet away. We think back to the start, when everything seemed so easy. What went wrong? It’s hard to notice when the backslide begins. Maybe things get hectic, life grows more demanding, or our confidence is shaken by criticism. Little by little, we begin to make compromises and pretty soon, we don’t even recognize ourselves anymore.
I’ve been there before. I’ve felt the sting of hopes being dashed to pieces and seeing my own empire tumble down. It hurts to be reminded that I’m human and that my plans are like a house of cards. But it’s in those moments God is working to restore and make all things new.
Lately I’ve felt like I’m waking up from a long dream. Somewhere along the line, I fell asleep to my habits of spiritual health. The same priority given to my physical and mental state didn’t translate over, leaving me in the paycheck mindset of religion. In other words, just getting by until the next spiritual deposit, whether that be church, bible study, or a conversation with another believer. But those “lifelines” are really just temporary fixes to the bigger need: the need for a relationship with my Savior. Sure, those other things are good and necessary even, but only when laid upon the foundation of Christ.
So where to begin again?
To me, it’s as simple as seeking my roots. If Jesus is at the root of my being, then he will begin to grow me. If he isn’t, then I will begin to wilt. I always try to make things too complicated instead of listening to that still, small voice beckoning to me.
I’m reminded of the story of Elijah the prophet who, like all servants of God in ancient times, faced many trials to his ministry. After years of drought, an epic showdown between Yahweh and Baal, and being on Queen Jezebel’s most wanted list, Elijah finds himself running away from the persecution and begging the Lord to end his life. Instead of letting him suffer in the wilderness, God met Elijah in that moment and blessed him, giving him strength and provision for the journey ahead. Notice: Elijah still had to make the journey himself. He wasn’t teleported to Horeb or carried on chariots of fire. He had to make the forty day trek before he could meet with God, and I can’t help but think that those forty days represented each of the years Israel spent in the wilderness. Once there, Elijah met with God on the mountain. The Lord didn’t appear in the fire, the wind, or the earthquake, but in the quiet whisper calling Elijah to come forth.
Sometimes I feel like Elijah. Life seems to have spiraled out of my control and I’m left wondering what’s next. And, like Elijah, I often find myself in the wilderness making a journey that seems endless. But there’s one thing I hang my hope on: the Lord of Elijah is the Lord of my life as well, if I’ll let Him. When everything else is stripped away and it’s just me and my God on the mountain, I find the peace I’ve been running from.
There is hope for the future because my God is a god of redemption. He takes broken things and restores them, no matter how far gone they may be. Whatever dreams I’ve been clinging to, whatever mountains seem impassable, He is there in the lowest moments. I still might have to climb out myself, but it’s through the journey that God purifies and refines. And it’s never too late to return home after wandering.