encouragement / chronic
hope
Marching Up to the Thing You Fear the Most by Adriana Hayes
just between us S P R I N G 2 0 2 0
Adriana Hayes is a freelance illustrator, professor, writer, and speaker who finds joy in helping others discover how God can bring “chronic hope” into their lives. She lives in Brookfield, Wis., with her husband, Chris, and three daughters.
Visit my sites! chronichopeblog. wordpress.com or madebyadri.com
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“How, can we trust When you say you will deliver us from All, of this pain, that threatens to take over us Well, this desert’s dry But the ocean may consume And we’re scared, to follow you... ~Lyrics by Ellie Holcomb “Red Sea Road” This song by Ellie Holcomb became my mantra over two years ago, when we started our journey as foster parents. It helped me formulate an answer to one of the most difficult, yet most frequently asked, questions: “How will you give them back [to their biological parents] if and when that time comes? My answer comes straight out of the Old Testament recordings of God parting the Red Sea and then after Moses’s death, the Jordan River, in order to allow safe passage for His people. In both stories, the Israelites set out on a journey knowing that an impassable body of water lay between them and what God had promised to them. I’ve found myself chewing on this particular portion…plodding in the dry desert…and what that must have looked like and felt like for these children of God. Did they whisper among themselves, “Is our leader (Moses or Joshua) building a strategy right now on how to cross the water when we get to it? I sure hope so. I have my children and my cattle and those things are too important to leave to chance. Maybe
we should try to gather a group to sort out another plan.” What about how they must have been feeling when they finally reached the water? I’m sure many were feeling too exhausted to even think about continuing. These were large bodies of water. The Jordan River was at flood stage with strong flowing currents. The nation of Israel is estimated to have been over two million people at that point in history. That is a lot of people crossing a wide expanse of ground and would’ve taken weeks for everyone to cross. How did they summon the strength to keep going? I’ve found myself returning to Josh. 3:15-16, as we get closer to the day we find out if these girls will stay in our family forever. It says, “Now the Jordan is at flood stage all during harvest. Yet as soon as the priests who carried the ark reached the Jordan and their feet touched the water’s edge, the water from upstream stopped flowing” (emphasis mine). The reason I keep turning to this verse is because I need to keep reminding myself that God did not reveal His rescue plan until the priest’s feet actually touched the water. He wanted to see that they had faith to walk right up to the seemingly immovable challenge ahead of them and then He showed His mighty power. Living with chronic health conditions often leads to knowing that daunting waters lie before us: surgeries, treatment plans, and longterm lifestyle changes. It’s tempting
to ask God, while we’re still in the desert, how He’s going to get us across safely on dry ground. In the past 27 months of having these girls in our family, I have cried out to God more times than I can count. I want Him to reveal to me how I will be able to go on if they don’t continue with us. However, God has remained silent. Yet, His presence has clearly been with me in this season of waiting, just as it was with the Israelites in the form of the cloud of smoke, pillar of fire, daily manna, and water from the rock. It’s been what I’ve needed in order to sustain me each day—nothing more, nothing less. However, He hasn’t provided the answer I think I so desperately need. He’s been showing me that I need to, in faith, march right up to the thing that I fear the most. Then, and only then, will He reveal His plan to me. It may not look like what I want it to, but I can continue on knowing that God will not leave me in the desert forever. He loves us as His children, and He will provide dry ground for us to walk across on. “We will sing, to our souls We won’t bury our hope Where He leads us to go There’s a red sea road When we can’t, see the way He will part the waves And we’ll never walk alone Down a red sea road...” ~Lyrics by Ellie Holcomb “Red Sea Road”
