Have you ever made a decision that seems small and inconsequential, but that ends up changing the trajectory of your life? 10 years ago today I had one of those moments. I was on a dark path in life, headed full speed to nowhere good. In the midst of a very routine day, I made what felt like a very routine decision—to go to a prayer night at the church I’d been attending. I didn’t make that decision with any real expectation; at the time it was more about having something to do, and maybe the chance to meet people as I continued to settle into a new home after college. Little did I know that decision would lead to a turning point in my life, setting me on a new path that I’ve been walking these past 10 years. 

That journey actually started about 7 months prior—in the summer of 2013—when I moved to Denver after graduating from college. The day I made that journey west is a day that I remember as significant every year; a day that I pause to remember the work God has done in my life since then. The decision to move to Denver was not one of those decisions that registered as small or inconsequential in the moment—I knew it was significant, but the significance I ascribed to it in that moment was completely different than what I see in it today.  It wouldn’t be until about 7 months later that I would begin to catch my first glimpse of the purpose that God had in that season. During that “in between” time I felt untethered. I was looking for something to happen, something to change, but I had no concept or expectation of what that change would look like. So I went about my days without much sense of purpose. But even in that season that felt purposeless, the purposes of God were alive and active in my life—whether or not I recognized it.   

This past summer I had the opportunity to spend around 2 months traveling. My journeys took me on a 70+ hour road trip over half-way across the country, along with two international destinations. Heading into the summer, I was in another season of feeling a bit untethered. I was feeling spiritually dry, and as I wrapped up 5 years in my role as a Resident Director there was a growing sense of discontent. For months, and really years, I had been trying to make sense of what God was doing in my life. And as I approached a significant mile-marker of time, I found myself wanting to be able to package it up nice and neat; identify the lesson God’s been teaching me or the destination He’s been leading me to. 

One of the themes of the past 5 years had been a nagging longing for what I left behind in Colorado. As I talked about in my last post, leaving the home I’d built in Denver was an incredibly difficult act of surrender to follow where I believed God was leading me. And when I was willing to be honest with myself and with God, at times I felt a little bit like God hadn’t been delivering on His end of that bargain. I genuinely liked my job and was grateful for a season of greater stability than I‘d ever known before, but I wasn’t seeing God move in the ways I had expected Him to and was beginning to feel disillusioned. In my lower moments I found myself asking God, “is this really what you called me to give up Denver for?” 

In one of my first destinations of the summer, I had the chance to visit Denver again for the first time in 2-years. As I caught my first glimpse of the mountains and skyline of the city I was overcome; not with the ache or longing for what was in the past, but with gratitude. As I spent the week reacquainting myself with the city and people who mean so much to me, I came to an important realization. My season of life in Denver was not meant to last forever, but it will always be a testament to the goodness and faithfulness of God. Looking back doesn’t have to mean a longing to return or go back, but can be an opportunity to remember how I’ve seen God work in the past and an encouragement to continue to trust Him with my future. 

Fast forward about a week, and I set off on an amazing opportunity to go to Israel and participate in a 2-week program focused on the life and ministry of Jesus. I hadn’t been planning to go on this trip—I had already been to Israel 5 years prior, on what I thought was a once-in-a-lifetime trip. But through a series of events that I don’t think I could have made up if I tried, God opened door for the opportunity to more or less drop into my lap. So I hopped on a plane and joined 30+ other people from around the world on a journey to better understand Jesus in His own context and in the land that He walked. 

As we neared the end of our 2 weeks, we took a little boat ride across the Sea of Galilee. Rather than filling the time with teaching, our wonderful instructor turned on some music and allowed our group to reflect, pray, and take in the experience. As we made our way across the sea, something finally began to crystalize for me. It wasn’t answers to my questions about what God was doing in my life or where He was leading me, it was a simple reminder of the reality which transcended all my searching and questions. As we crossed the sea in blistering July heat, a song began to play that reduced me to a mess of sweat and tears: 

“All my life You have been faithful // And all my life You have been so, so good // With every breath that I am able // I will sing of the goodness of God” 

As I sang along with the song, I reflected on just how far God had brought me. I reflected on the ways that He was faithful to me even when I was faithless, and the ways that He blessed me with good gifts I didn’t even know to ask for. I looked out over the waters and shores that Jesus walked 2,000 years ago in pursuit of us, and I wept tears of gratitude.  

That moment was incredibly special, but moments like that are often more like landmarks along an otherwise long and kind of boring road. More often than not, life feels more like driving through the plains of Nebraska than the breathtaking Rocky Mountains. Often I feel like I’m in the “in between,” not sure what’s coming next or where God’s leading me. Over the years I’ve learned that walking with God isn’t just one mountaintop experience after another—that there are valleys and wildernesses and even long boring highways along the way.  

Maybe you can relate. 

In his book “The Screwtape Letters,” C.S. Lewis writes a series of letters from the perspective of a demon named Screwtape to his nephew—Wormwood—mentoring him in the art of tempting and leading a new Christian away from the path of discipleship. There Lewis writes something that has been a great comfort and encouragement to me in my journey: 

“He [God] will set them [Christians] off with communications of His presence which, though faint, seem great to them, with emotional sweetness, and easy conquest over temptation. But He never allows this state of affairs to last long. Sooner or later He withdraws, if not in fact, at least from their conscious experience, all those supports and incentives. He leaves the creature to stand up on its own legs—to carry out from the will alone duties which have lost all relish. It is during such trough periods, much more than during the peak periods, that it is growing into the sort of creature He wants it to be.” 

C.S. Lewis

Sometimes that season—what Lewis calls the “trough period”—lasts a few days, and sometimes it can last years or maybe even a lifetime. Maybe it looks like a season of grief and pain, or maybe just a season of monotony and spiritual dryness. And while I think it’s natural to want to be able to see and understand the ways God is moving in our lives and in the world around us, it’s in those seasons that I believe we have an opportunity to deepen our trust in the faithfulness and goodness of God. Because that is the reality that brings unshakable hope regardless of our circumstances: God is GOOD and God is FAITHFUL—and that means that no matter what things might look like right now and no matter how long it takes, He will work it all out for our good and for His glory. And we don’t need to be able to see it or understand it in order for it to come to pass. We won’t always get it, and it won’t always make sense. There will be times when God’s goodness doesn’t feel good to us—our call is to trust.

One of the most helpful practices or disciplines I’ve engaged with the past 10 years is a daily practice of journaling. Today marks 3,653 consecutive days. I have a whole bookshelf lined with the journals I’ve filled over the years, the pages full of examples of God’s goodness and faithfulness. Each individual day or page may not contain some spectacular revelation or event—in fact, most of them are rather mundane. But it’s a tool that helps me to do what we are encouraged to do over 352 times in Scripture—Remember.      

When I have one of those moments where the goodness and faithfulness of God is on full display, I’ve learned that it’s so important for me to write it down. Because if I’m not careful, a few days or weeks down the road I’ll likely have forgotten all about it! And it’s in looking back at all the ways God has been faithful and good—both in my own personal experience as recorded in my journals as well as in the witness of Scripture—that I find hope and encouragement for the future. As we journey through this life with God, our call is to remember the ways He has revealed His goodness and faithfulness, and to walk forward in trust with our eyes fixed on the One who is the same yesterday, today, and forever.