As the leaves turn golden and the air crisper, I have grown at turns restless and introspective. I am flummoxed as to why I am not moving forward and cannot fathom what God’s reasons are for keeping me where I am at. I no longer feel His presence or his gentle voice guiding my soul. It is terrifying. I read the other morning, “And God left Hezekiah to test him.” Let that sink in for a moment.

I have also been a hot mess of emotions, crying at odd moments over odd things. It isn’t like me at all. I am at the end of myself. I am hoping a new beginning starts here. Once we die to self, we live in Christ? I cannot, for the love of God, find my purpose in life right now and it has left me confused. Then the thread that God is not the author of confusion plays repeatedly in my head. What is going on here?

My younger self used to make pies exactly like the one pictured here. Holidays were times of sheer enjoyment for me, only someone left my cake out in the rain and stole my joy. We all have times in life where we lose our hope and can’t dream-build. Next to not being able to feel God’s presence, this is the most awful thing I have ever experienced. And that is saying a lot. I have always been able to spin a dream, reach for the next project, or set the next goal. It’s what I do. By God if you give me lemons I will make lemonade.

So like any cry-baby, I have got to find something to pacify myself with. How to stay calm and carry on. Here’s the crux. As you mature in Christ and God begins to reveal your real nature through his Holy Spirit, you see clearly that you are not the master of your own destiny and truly, without Him, you can do nothing. You see your sin nature in a whole new light. God often has to tear down the foundations we are standing on before He can rebuild us into vessels of honor.

It is also the passing of time that has revealed to me that life is a series of windows. There is your procreating years, your child-rearing years, and then the letting go. The nest grows cold and the grandchildren come. Middle-age become much like reading a good, or not so good, chapter book. Certainly, there are parts that make us wince. I am not sure what to do with this window in my life because right now it just seems painted shut. I can look back over my youth or try to ignore the gnawing knot of worry in my gut over old age staring me down. But what to do now?

As I pour over David’s heartfelt pleas to God in the Psalms, I just resolve to nail my hope on the same person as he did. I recognize that I can do nothing without Him and that it is He who will finish the good work that He began in me. That through the tearing down process, I can become not only His servant, but his friend. He is my only hope in a world gone completely mad with senseless bullying, Ebola, constant surveillance, no jobs, and broken families. So when the leaves begin to fall from the trees and the air grows cold and I remain as stuck as a bear in quicksand, I will meditate on His promise to me, “I will never leave you or forsake you.”