It’s still difficult to adequately describe just what it was like living in Arizona for four years. So many experiences and so much spiritual growth happened during that time in my desert. An intense longing to go back and re-live each day filled my heart for a long time, until I finally realized something important. That was my training ground for now. I can’t go back, only forward.
Arizona, for me, is a magical place. The topography is so different from anywhere else I’ve ever been. The desert and the mountains. Beautiful and treacherous all at the same time. Rocks and sand and scant shade. Life showing up where you least expect it. Cactus flowers blooming with grace and vibrant color in the intensely blinding sun and suffocating heat.
I would have to say for the majority of my time in Arizona my heart was at peace and calm and I was pretty much stress-free. Unrushed. My God-taught lessons were interspersed with periods of rest where I knew myself to be tenderly watched over and protected and provided for.
This particular post has been more difficult than usual to write because I don’t remember so many specific stories as much as I remember how it felt during my sojourn there. But I can go back in my mind and remember the days filled with rest.
However, I do remember several stories I’d like to share.
I had my morning routine. And because I have OCD tendencies, I always put my keys in the same place. On the side table near the front door. Because then I would know where they were. All you other OCD readers will understand.
And, getting ready to walk out the door for work, I had four things I always, always, always, had with me – and in a specific hand. Like I said – routine.
On my right shoulder was my purse. In my right hand was the handle of my rolling bag. In my left hand was my cup of coffee, and my keys (well the key ring was on my finger). This was etched in stone. I never wavered or walked out the door until I had these four things.
This particular morning, I did everything the same. Or so I thought.
I checked to make sure the windows were locked. I checked to make sure the sliding glass door was locked. I walked out the front door and it locked behind me.
Suddenly I experienced that awful sinking feeling. You know the one I mean. I looked down at my left hand and discovered I didn’t have my keys.
I looked in the window of the sliding glass door and saw them right where I always placed them – on the small table.
Unreachable.
Of course, I instinctively turned the front door knob. Locked. I tried the sliding glass door. Locked. I looked at the windows. Locked. I tried the doors again. Still locked.
What to do? “Ok, God”, I said. “I need some help here, please.”
I stood there, looking at my locked front door, my brain spinning around like a hamster on a wheel as the seconds ticked by and my stress level rose.
A voice whispered in my ear – “try the sliding glass door again”.
“But I’ve already tried it twice! It’s locked!”
“Try it anyway”.
So, I did. And it opened. Quite easily. I stood there on the threshold, rooted in place, uncomprehending, looking at the keys across the room on the table when the voice spoke again – “now, Victoria, we can’t be late for work. Go get your keys.”
That really happened – exactly the way I just described it, too.
Jesus and I had many conversations. About anything and everything. And He was as real to me as if He were physically standing next to me. There were many times I felt I could just about see Him. I know a lot of Christians believe we should pray more, but we sadly miss the point. It’s not ‘prayer’ like you’d normally think of it. It’s talking. Chatting. Having a conversation with someone you care about, and who cares about you. It’s that sharing thing you do with friends and family and spouses.
It’s so easy. It’s not mysterious or hard at all. It’s just communicating.
I remember talking with Him about my finances. “You know”, I said, “if I could just earn twice as much as I do now, I’d be able to pay my bills more easily”. A couple of months later, I got transferred to a different department at work where I not only got an increase in my hourly rate but started earning bonuses. And guess what? You got it – my income doubled! Really. I’m not making this up.
And another time, I still remember when I was given – yes given – a beautiful spinning wheel by a truly kind-hearted lady. I had found it on craigslist for $250. I thought I could just about handle spending that amount of money, so I called her and she brought it over for me to take a look at. We discovered there was a small piece missing, so she said she’d take the wheel, get it repaired, and then call me back and I could let her know then if I still wanted the wheel. A couple of weeks went by. When she called, she said, “you know, I was telling my daughter about you, and I decided I don’t want to sell the wheel – I want to give it to you.” Really. I’m not making this up either.
The things we think are just too small for God to care about are the things He does care about. He is our Father and He delights in taking care of us. We should let Him do it more often.
Oftentimes, we are so convinced we’re not that important, or that we can do it ourselves, we end up missing out on so much our Father wants to do on our behalf. When you’ve had the awesome privilege of experiencing God so near and so intimate, you cannot ever be the same, which brings me to my next epiphany.
I have discovered something life-changing – Jesus is my happily ever after.
And because of the intense preparation I went through there, I don’t feel rooted here. My eyes see beyond this temporary existence. My entire being longs for more than what is here. I remember reading a line in a book many years ago. I don’t recall the author’s name, but he said our lives here on earth are an unfinished symphony. What a beautiful word picture.
God made me into a storyteller, and along with that, He gave me the ability to see others’ pain and absorb their hurt. Which means, since I’m just human, I can get emotionally overwhelmed and physically exhausted.
And because of that, sometimes I need to come away and rest. Get unrushed. My Heavenly Father knows what I need. Just as Jesus told His disciples when they returned from preaching and healing – come away by yourselves and rest.
And get healed by the only true Healer so we can then go out and serve again.
Nice!