“Is This Really Where I’m Supposed to Be?”

Something beautiful happened in my family last weekend.

This is me, in San Diego, with my husband–and my oldest son, who has your back. He is one of the United States’ newest marines.

I expected the weekend to be pure celebration, which it largely was. But my son had just graduated from fourteen weeks of boot camp (the Marines’ boot camp is twice the length of all the other branches).

He learned incredible skills like combat triage and land navigation, but also introduced us to new terms like “skull drags” and  “kick tags,” which I will not horrify you with here. You can no doubt Google like the rest of us. My need to trust God with my son has ratcheted up to a whole new level.

The first morning after three months of not seeing him, I silently cried just at seeing him, because I am that kind of sappy right now. He is at least half an inch taller and 15 lbs. heavier. He could not speak to me or look at me; that would be “breaking his bearing.” Our arrival at 6:30 AM had nothing on his 4 AM daily wakeup call.

The 469 members of his battalion jogged in formation before us for three miles, followed by push-ups in sync, led by the drill instructor.

One.

Two!

Three.

Four!

This is what you asked–

For! 

My son chose the hard to become part of, I am told, one of the world’s most elite fighting forces.

“Is this where I’m supposed to be?” Darkness, chosen (or not)

I have thought about this, how he chose darkness to be stronger, toward the purposes God has authored for him.

He wrote us in snail-mail letters, our only contact, about sensing God’s presence in some of these lowest moments of his life. At least once, he was close to calling it quits.

Any chance you’re in a season of life where you feel yourself growing stronger, but maybe you’ve made the wrong choice?

If you’ve followed this blog for awhile, perhaps it’s a huge secret that when my family decided to come back from Africa, I descended into a tailspin in a handful of (important) ways.

Yes, we’d fervently sought God’s face.

No, we did not have clear answers–other than those gained by trusting God for the wisdom we asked for and eliminating unwise options.

We then hit some seriously hard stuff with our kids. Though I’ve written about some, like our son’s cancer scare, so much of what God has authored for me, I just can’t write about.

But deep within those, part of me has asked some serious questions of God, and spent some serious days in an inky blackness of waiting. Enduring.

It’s hard not to question God when you’ve asked for wisdom…but it leads you directly into pain. Do Not Pass Go, do not collect $200.

And part of me always seems to wonder with the next blow that lays me out.

Did we even do the right thing in moving here, after all that praying and looking for You? Is this some sort of something I deserve?

Is this where I’m supposed to be?

“Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt”

But as I wait here, resilience shredded, God showed me an interesting passage this week.

It takes place in the last chunks of Genesis, when Joseph’s brothers return to their dad, Jacob (aka Israel) and report, Hey, that brother we told you was eaten by wild animals (complete with stage props of blood-soaked fancy jacket)?

He’s alive. Oh, and he’s ruling Egypt. Crazy thing, that.

Jacob decides, at Joseph’s primo invitation, to uproot his whole life and move to Egypt.

And this is the part that fascinates me:

And God spoke to Israel in visions of the night and said, “Jacob, Jacob.” And he said, “Here I am.”

Then he said, “I am God, the God of your father. Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for there I will make you into a great nation.

I myself will go down with you to Egypt, and I will also bring you up again, and Joseph’s hand shall close your eyes.”

Genesis 46:2-4

Observations:

• Jacob’s family, Israel, would be enslaved in Egypt a total of 400 years. Some of them would not know freedom, even freedom to worship God, in their lifetime (Exodus 3:18-20).
• God promises to go with them into trouble.
• God has plans to make them a great nation there.

(Does this remind me of boot camp?)

…And God knew

And God continues to see them: “God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. God saw the people of Israel—and God knew” (Exodus 2:24-25).

I go back to the keen words of a reader I quoted in this post on second-guessing decisions:

I assume that if I obey what I think God is clearly placing on my heart, he will “reward” me somehow with happiness and not trouble. My very wise husband points out that this is very bad theology!

So many people God loved, if not most, he steered not away from trouble, but into it.

Abraham. David. Mary. John the Baptist. Peter. Job. Jeremiah. Isaiah.

Particularly, Jesus.

This is not the end

But for Jesus and for all the others, God had written not just death to themselves, but resurrection. Restoration. A graduation, you might say, of sorts.

Read God’s words through Moses to His people after 400 years of the hard:

And Moses said to the people, “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord, which he will work for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall never see again.  The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.”

Exodus 14:13-14

At a graduation 800 miles from my home last week, I saw a young man poised, disciplined, thoughtful, and impressive. There had been an ordained end to the hard.

Up to that day, I slid a magnet across each day of his weekly schedule posted on our fridge. I wrote two letters a week, reminding him we were cheering him on, that God saw him and held up his arms.

Our family was leaning toward his graduation, praying for each day’s challenge pushing him to and beyond his limits. I couldn’t wait for the day I would hug his stronger, more capable body close to mine and tell him how proud I was.

Is there a picture there of how God–so much more–does this for me?

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