Do any of you remember thinking, as a child, that grown-ups had it all figured out?

The ‘grown-ups’ seemed to not only make sense of their past but also knew where they were headed in the future. They knew how to navigate their way through problems with what appeared to be great understanding. They were in charge and not to be questioned or argued with. They told stories from their own experience to teach valuable lessons, thus adding significance, meaning, and purpose to those experiences. Grown-ups had arrived.

Little did I know…

Here I am, a GROWN-UP. Not a child, not a teenager. Not even a young adult anymore! I am, indeed, a full-grown woman of thirty-six years worth of experiences. I am now what I referred to 10 years ago as ‘old’. And in fifteen more years I will be what I am currently referring to as ‘old’. 🙂 Yet, even at this age I still feel like a fearful child and insecure teenager much of the time. I have not arrived. But I was certain by this age I’d have life figured out and be ministering to others out of strength, wisdom, and experience.

I think one of the hardest parts about getting older, for me anyways, is that the illusion of ‘Arrival’ is fading.

As a child I hoped to someday be one of those grown-ups, who knew everything about everything. As a teenager I couldn’t help but see the dawning glow of Arrival on the horizon. Then, there it was – I got married! Arrival had risen above the horizon and shown its glory upon my face. Never mind that I was only nineteen… I had arrived! – er, wait… What happened? Where’d that sun go?

Clouds. Dang. Maybe tomorrow Arrival will shine on me again.

Storms. More dang. Surely Arrival will come soon.

Thunder and lightening. Um, this isn’t what I expected, dang. Hmmm, I guess I’ll find shelter and wait out this storm… these clouds can’t last forever.

Cold and miserable. Where are you, dang-it? Curse you, Arrival. The warmth of this sun that once birthed hoped has been nothing but a tease on my shivering face.

Arrival is an illusion. It was an illusion when I was a child watching the grown-ups. It was an illusion to think I had attained it myself at nineteen. It’s an illusion to think I have it now – even after seventeen years of marriage, three children, five houses, and numerous experiences that have led me to know what I know.

I want Arrival because I too want to tell stories that teach valuable lessons and give my life meaning and purpose. I want Arrival so that my painful, ugly past might finally have redemption. I want Arrival so that I know where I’m headed and understand how to get there. I want Arrival to teach me right from wrong and be able to navigate my way through problems and crisis with wisdom and grace.

But the illusion that this will all happen at some specific stage or age in life – or as a result of some ministry position or career title – is a trap set to kill, steal, and destroy.

The truth is, Arrival is a very, very, VERY slow acquisition. A lifetime process. The Bible puts it this way,

“And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.” 2 Corinthians 3:18

From one degree of glory to another. Layer by layer. Revelation by revelation. Piece by piece.

I am not the same person I was in my twenties… yet I’m still far from who I’d like to be in the future. I do have some stories of redemption and healing… yet the vast terrain of my heart still lies dry and hard. I do have some bits of wisdom, having paid life’s price to attain them… yet so much more is needed and at times the price seems too high.

I’d like to think that Arrival is just around the corner… as soon as I’m finished reading this book or doing that Bible study… as soon as we pay off this debt or purchase that thing… as soon as I’ve reached this level or attained that position… as soon as my marriage looks like this or my children behave like that. Then! I will have arrived, everything will make sense, and I can teach others from my great wealth of understanding and knowledge.

What a life-sucking lie. This kind of arrival does not exist – not authentically anyways. Sure, there are plenty of superficial, pseudo arrivals offered for our indulgence, but the piousness and pretense that accompanies them are marring. This kind of ‘strength’ is actually a grave weakness.

Genuine Arrival is now. Even in weakness. Even in brokenness. Even when nothing makes sense.

And Arrival is then, also. When the lesson is learned. When the truth is known. When strength has replaced weakness.

Authentic arrival happens when we actually stop pursuing Arrival in the form of perfection and instead embrace Abiding in the form of grace. Abiding is the only way we’ll ever truly see Arrival. The clouds and storms of life will cause us to feel like Arrival has hidden Its light from our face and left us to feel the cold curse of Earth’s shattered dreams and harsh realities. But Abiding offers us comfort and shelter, if only we’ll receive it and take cover.

Someday Arrival, in It’s fullness, will come! Someday the real Son will shine His face on all that has been darkened and damaged by the storms. Someday we will see the Arrival of all things made new. Someday.

But, today… abide. Even if it’s another day of living in the storm, seek refuge in Him. Even when the mountains don’t move, walk through the valley with Him. Even when our heart grows sick from hope deferred, find strength in Him.

 For in our weakness He shows Himself strong.

“For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Corinthians 12:10

 

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**This post originally appeared at beautifullymessedup.com Author: Niki Schemanski