It was our final night of the trip in a national park. (We would still have our travel home ahead, but this was the last night at one of the “big” stops.) I was doing all my regular campsite evening routines (putting away extra things in the bear box, boiling water to wash our faces and wash dishes, making the coffee for the next morning) when the unsolicited tears began. God had designed a nighttime display of pure beauty on this final evening. It was a cool, quiet night. A brilliant round moon silhouetted the Rocky Mountains, the dark blanketed sky was littered with stars. It was holy. Breathtaking. It felt like an incredibly divine, personal gift to us.
A sacred benediction.
The more I focused on the reality of these being the final routines of our final night, the heavier the tears fell. The more I grasped the perfect timing of this glorious nighttime display, the wetter my face became.
I have had surprising tears on this adventure: when we crossed the California state line, when I saw Half Dome at sunset, when the blue sky suddenly appeared, revealing the Grand Tetons. I have felt God’s lavish love for me in many small ways. But on this night, the tears were spilling over from a bucket drawn from a deeper well. When Chris realized I was crying, he walked over and I collapsed into his arms, sobbing. We embraced under the dark sky. We stood there, holding the month of memories, the experiences, the moment. I pulled myself together a bit and we sat on the picnic table, looking up at the sky in complete silence, tears continuing to fall.
As a therapist, I gently invite my clients to learn to be curious about what they feel and begin to name their emotions. Naming gives us understanding. Curiosity keeps us out of judgement and criticism of what we feel. I began to try to verbalize and practice curiosity in that moment. There was not ONE source for the emotion. It was a complex melting pot. I felt gratitude. Joy. Sadness. Awe. Delight. Love. And some uncertainty. The uncertainty seemed to be adding a messy piece to the puzzle, requiring me to lean in with a bit of patient curiosity.
The uncertainty I was feeling comes from some silly pressure I put on myself to come back with big revelations or clear answers about “stuff” in my life. I have been wrestling for a long time with my specific place/role in ministry and church life, along with a few foggy career aspirations. I have been caught in a philosophical/theological dilemma in my mind for the past several years and it has intensified recently. I feel caught, often held back because of it. I wanted God to “tell me exactly what to do” when I get back after the trip. But the Jesus I’ve grown to love doesn’t work in such tidy ways. He doesn’t always give us clear answers. This is why Hebrews tells us He is pleased with our faith. We have to stop acting like we can know exactly what God is telling us “to do” and make room for uncertainty. And wonder. And mystery.
On one of our hikes as Chris and I were teasing out my philosophical dilemma, I looked up at a brilliant display of beauty, and it hit me! GOD IS NOT STUCK in my dilemma! He is not caught in my either/or. He is not confused. So, if I live in His love and in His delight, I am free from this dilemma because He is free! He is not bound. I am not bound. This does not give me specific answers, but it takes away my fear of getting it wrong and sets me free to live in delight and wonder.
Back to the picnic table.
Back to our sacred benediction.
As I sat there, feeling this crazy cocktail of emotion, the beauty reminded me of the grandness of God. It reminded me that God is not stuck. I felt held. I felt uncertain, yet unafraid. And I felt gratitude in a way I had never before experienced. The well my emotional bucket had dipped down into was the infinite well of the love of God. It is the deepest of wells. It is wider. It is higher. It is longer. No one who cranks down their bucket into this well will come up empty. NO ONE. And one small splash of that water can set us all alive. And set us free.
You are free, dear one.
Dip your bucket into that well and you will find how beloved and loved you are.
