landmark: when the finally-suddenly is just ahead

“Right there, that one.” Still going highway speed, the road to Grandma’s house rapidly approached on the passenger side.

Vin hit the brakes to slow down in time, and flicked the blinker. “I was looking for the sign…it’s not there anymore,” he said, making the turn.

I never look for the street sign, so I didn’t even notice it was missing. Grinning, I pointed through the cracked windshield at the Butte looming in front of us.

“It’s right there. There’s your sign.”

landmark: when the finally-suddenly is just ahead

I don’t mean to brag. The man drives us everywhere and keeps a map in his head, while I almost took out an ornamental tree the last time I made a u-turn in the library parking lot.

But this road, I know. I’ve driven it so many times I could do it with my eyes shut…figuratively, of course.

I’ve been driving it more and more, too. The plan, for now, is to take it weekly because time is flying and Grandma is 94 and things that weren’t a concern a year ago are now quite different. A year adds miles to all of us.

Meanwhile, I’ve worked my way through Numbers but got hung up in chapter 33 because it is the end of the year and that chapter seems parallel to life right now. Because ready or not, change is here, and so many other markers we thought we’d never get to.

Promises fulfilled. Breakthroughs achieved. Milestones that were always in the distance, so far off we never really thought we’d see them up close – but here they are, rapidly looming larger and larger as the safe space between us shortens.

It’s finally, suddenly. And there are no brakes for slowing this down.

So let me tell you about Numbers 33, which summarizes the Israelites’ journey from Egypt to the Promised Land. They had been slaves, and went from bondage and captivity to freedom and fulfillment. You probably know this story almost as well as you know your own, so you know it wasn’t an easy-peasy, quick trip.

Just because you’re no longer a slave doesn’t mean you suddenly know how to live in freedom.

So the Israelites, like us, had a journey to make. And Numbers 33 gives us the landmarks:

They set out from Rameses in the first month, on the fifteenth day of the first month; on the day after the Passover the Israelites went out boldly in the sight of all the Egyptians…

– Numbers 33:3

During this journey, the Israelites wrestled with the same questions we do when we’re being honest: Is obedience worth it? Can we trust God? Are we who He really says we are, and can we really do what He tells us to?

Are we willing to go where He sends us?

Some of us have been promised something before, and it didn’t turn out the way we thought it would. It took too long, or maybe we confused the middle for the end. Maybe it was super messy, and came with trial or trauma. We feel like the promise burned us and we stopped trusting.

So now when we see a new landmark of promise and fulfillment looming ahead, we hit the brakes.

Dig in our heels.

Backpedal.

We do all the metaphors because we’ve (mis)learned that promises can also feel very much like threats.

You know the story of the twelve spies; this is exactly what ten of them did. The enemy wants us to see the worst case scenario and assume that all is lost.

We should, of course, be looking at Jesus, but problems (current or potential ones) are loud and flashy and demanding. They get in our face and try to become idols, because if they can command more of our attention than we give to Jesus…well, that’s what we’re worshiping, don’t you know.

But when we know the land, know the hand of God, and understand Romans 8:28 (and the rest of scripture), we know better: All is not lost. All is gain. There is nothing the enemy can do that, when surrendered to the Lord, cannot result in our gain.

When we understand that, it’s easier to stand our ground instead of shrinking back and looking for excuses to avoid what we’re called to do.

So, friend…in this season, what are you called to do?

We have to be free from fear. If we’re afraid of the landmark looming in the distance, we won’t confront it; we’ll be ruled by it, instead. But our wild exploits are rooted in our fearless movement forward.

Teach me your way, O Lord, and lead me on a level path because of my enemies.

Do not give me up to the will of my adversaries, for false witnesses have risen against me, and they are breathing out violence.

I believe that I shall see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.

– Psalm 27:11-13

Still though, so many things we thought were down the road are now right in front of us. We’re almost-finally-suddenly there, and so is the temptation to stall our engines or shrink back.

How many times have we sensed the “suddenly” coming, and we sabotaged it out of fear? Are we allowing God to be as big as He is – and trusting Him for all that He says – or are we making Him small and safe, in the terrain of our own choosing?

Maybe it will help to look back, and see how far we’ve come.

They set out from Pi-hahiroth, passed through the sea into the wilderness…

Look at what you’ve done: You faced the event you’d been dreading. You rose above fear and found a mantle of authority on the high ground. You confronted dishonor, you let go of betrayal, you forgave the one who repented, and you continued to love, even in new ways, the one who still doesn’t know how.

They set out from Marah and came to Elim…

You read this book and then that one, and you stumbled into a curriculum that was clearly the Lord’s design because it was not of your choosing. You learned so many lessons you never planned for, and you grew in deeper humility along with them.

They set out from Elim and camped by the Red Sea. They set out from the Red Sea and camped in the wilderness of Sin…

You had that hard conversation and made that brave confession, you learned that you could articulate those thoughts and feelings you’ve held onto for years, because you finally had a receptive audience. And you learned that the Lord is always receptive, too.

They set out from the wilderness of Sin and camped at Dophkah. They set out from Dophkah and camped at Alush.

You saved and invested, put the work in, milestone after milestone. Some of the markers are invisible to everyone but you – but you know how you carved out time to make way for a service that that no one else would see.

They set out from Alush and camped at Rephidim, where there was no water for the people to drink.

When you didn’t see the answer or the provision, you waited and it came. No, it didn’t look at all like you thought it would, but it came.

They set out from Rephidim and camped in the wilderness of Sinai.

You learned about balancing graciousness with firmness, and discerned between overlooking mistakes and confronting sin. Wisdom has taught you more about which concerns should be shared and which should stay private and prayed about. And you’ve gotten better at magnifying righteousness, instead of venting frustrations and giving the enemy the satisfaction of having volume added to his harassment.

Look at how you’ve grown, how far you’ve come. Look at what He’s done.

He reached down from on high; he took me;
he drew me out of mighty waters.
He delivered me from my strong enemy
and from those who hated me,
for they were too mighty for me.
They confronted me in the day of my calamity,
but the Lord was my support.
He brought me out into a broad place;
he delivered me because he delighted in me.

– Psalm 18:16-19

Can you believe it? Look back and see all the landmarks you’ve made it through, all the posts you held, all the places you stopped to build an altar and worship. A little wonder and amazement is called for.

He has been training us to take the land, drive out idolatry, expand the Kingdom, root out lies and deception, heal trauma, free the captives, and prepare the way of the Lord. We’ve learned that we have to start with the land in our own hearts first, because if we are still living as captives, we cannot free anyone else.

Toward the end of Numbers 33, there’s this little phrase in verse 54: “according to your ancestral tribes you shall inherit.” They, of course, were talking about boundaries of the land of each tribe, but there’s truth here for us, too.

According to your family culture (the way you hold your chargethe way you bear your calling, what you invest in, focus on, attend to, and cultivate)…you will inherit.

Our lives – and what our children will inherit from us – are wrapped up in these promises and how we follow Him into them.

We want each one of you to show the same diligence so as to realize the full assurance of hope to the very end, so that you may not become sluggish but imitators of those who through faith and patience inherit the promises.

– Hebrews 6:11-12

His goodness is the lay of the land – and you don’t need a sign if you’re familiar with the territory. You just need to know the landmarks.

He has been, and will continue to be, before and behind us.

He is leading, but He is also coming.

And He’s teaching us to prepare the way for it.

for the one who is tired & heartsick & wondering if things will get better

Or, Grit…chapter 2.

Don’t stop praying for that thing you’re tempted to give up on.

The Lord doesn’t put good desires in your heart to tease you, but to show you where you’re going. Intercede for someone else while you wait, and use this time to bring life elsewhere, too.

Whoever brings blessing will be enriched, and one who waters will himself be watered.

— Proverbs 11:25

He’s not impatient or annoyed by you constantly asking Him if you’re doing it right. He’s not shaking His head and tsk-ing, wishing you’d get your act together and stop bugging Him. He’s a good, good Father. He loves your heart that continues to press forward in obedience and surrender, especially when you don’t know what it’s exactly supposed to look like or how things will turn out.

You can trust Him to tell you what you need to know when you ask. And you can trust Him to give you what you need when you ask, too.

For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion?

If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!”

— Luke 11:10-13

The Lord is still shining on your situation. It might seem like it’s taking too long and you’ve almost given up hoping and praying and watering and expecting, but your answer is on the cusp of blooming. Do not cut it down too early. Don’t give up on tending it. He is putting things in order, and answers, solutions, and breakthrough might start unfolding faster than you can believe.

Maybe you thought you would be further by now. You’ve been in bud for so long, just waiting and waiting, almost to the point you’ve wondered if you’re running out of time. What if there’s not enough summer left? What if winter comes too soon? And why does it even matter, if by all rights you should’ve been in full bloom eons ago, and here you still are, waiting?

Are you just bad at blooming? No.

Are you destined to stay folded up and hidden? No.

Is it God’s will for you to be unhappy, because He loves you very much and has a miserable plan for your life? No.

You are not too late. You’re not bad at this. God has joy ahead that would make you laugh at your concerns if you could see it right now.

It feels dark, frustrating, and unrewarding out there some days. You work and work and work and wait, and hope a little, and look…but nope, it’s not there yet, so you start all over again, still not seeing the fruit of your labors.

But something’s happening underneath. It really is. We’ll see it soon. Hang in there.

But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.

— 1 Corinthians 15:57-58



This is chapter 2 of Grit: Kindling to Relight the Wounded and Weary.

grit: how we wait & keep His way

I sat at one end of the couch, and our six-year-old with his pink cheeks was at the other. Our nine-year-old had the other couch, and both were banked by coffee tables littered with half-empty beverages.

Up too early with two feverish boys, trying to keep myself healthy and hydrated on only four hours of sleep, I remembered how just in the last post I said my mind was ambitious but my body said no, take a nap. And I wondered if this day would be the same but for different reasons.

grit: how we wait & keep His way | Shannon Guerra

I had just written about limitations, so I guess it was fair that I got to relive it: Limits force us to focus. I could only reach my end of the coffee table, which held my tea, planner, bible, book for class, a scripture verse on a slip of paper, and The House of Seven Gables, all of which I’ve been working my way through.

That sounds productive, but I spent plenty of time just staring blankly out the window, watching the chickadees at the feeder and the cars on the highway. Also, I checked temperatures. Reminded Finn and Kav to drink their tea, and they made slow progress.

Both of the boys had a day – separately, though, praise God – when their fevers spiked high enough to peak with delirium and tachycardia, which is a fancy way of saying we could see their pulses tapping under the curve of their necks while they mumbled nonsense about ice cubes talking and the walls changing shape and color.

It was alarming, but twenty years of reading classic literature hasn’t been for nothing. Everyone who’s read Sense and Sensibility knows that Marianne raved incoherently before her fever broke, too.

So we kept their foreheads cool and let the fevers do their job. And they did, but when we thought they were finally on the mend, a new phase started with congestion and coughing, which didn’t seem fair because that’s not how it’s supposed to work. You’re supposed to get over whatever it is and move on with life, not just transition into a new form of sickness.

But no, two days later, both boys and I were all coughing and sniffling. Still drinking all the fluids and doing the right things, but also, still working our way through whatever it was. My head hurt when I turned too fast to look left or right, but I mostly felt fine as long as I didn’t do anything ambitious like leave the couch.

Sometimes we think we’re making progress, but then we suddenly realize there’s so much more ahead than we had anticipated. And it doesn’t feel like progress anymore; it feels more like discouragement, or even defeat.

He sees you when small steps forward cause you to grieve, because it seems like they ought to be bigger steps forward by now…or they ought not to have been needed at all because the circumstances should never have happened.

You’re not in trouble for having mixed feelings over progress that restores the regress of hard situations.

It’s okay to be both grateful for the progress and grieved over its necessity.

He is doing something in both the grief and the gratitude.

– Grit: Kindling to Relight the Wounded and Weary

I gathered the empty cups and crumpled tissues, thought about the work that would need to be set aside for another day. Wondered how long it would last, and how much I wasn’t going to get done this week.

And then I heard the Lord say, What if this isn’t sickness, but immunity?

Because that’s what perseverance and grit develop.

Wait for the Lord and keep to his way,
and he will exalt you to inherit the land;
you will look on the destruction of the wicked.

– Psalm 37:34

When we learn to focus and persist in the task that’s right in front of us, we protect ourselves from a lot of the drama and distractions in our periphery. We’re not necessarily unaware, but we’re on a mission.

(Like right now, she typed, ignoring the cat who repeatedly walked across her lap, meowing for attention.)

Being stuck on the couch with sick kids is not all that different from being stuck on the couch nursing a baby, which is how I’ve spent almost eleven years of my adult life. Those were the short years filled with long days; different couch, but the same coffee table. Those slow days taught me to steward what was in reach no matter how chaotic everything else out of reach was – drink the water, read the book, memorize the verse. Look out the window, observe and pray.

And this, too, is progress.

Be still before the Lord, and wait patiently for him;
do not fret over those who prosper in their way,
over those who carry out evil devices.

– Psalm 37:7

A few weeks ago one of our pastors said the difference between persistence and stubbornness is the direction you’re going, and that’s familiar because we’ve talked about holy stubbornness for a looong time.

Things don’t always go the way we want, but when we practice patient self control, playing it cool, we look like Jesus because we’re doing what He did. The Bible, of course, doesn’t say He “played it cool;” it uses phrases like divine forbearance...but the essence is the same. We, too, are looking past the wrongs and trusting Him to bring things right as we press on in the face of less than ideal circumstances.

We’re doing what needs to be done, no matter how humble or ugly or unimpressive it seems. We’re pressing forward through the obstacles. And we’re letting go of the things out of reach, out of our jurisdiction and control.

We’re (a)biding our time in gritty surrender.

Our steps are made firm by the Lord
when he delights in our way;
though we stumble, we shall not fall headlong,
for the Lord holds us by the hand.

– Psalm 37:23-24

I didn’t want the kid to make that choice, I didn’t want to have to prune that relationship, I didn’t want that to happen. But it’s less about what we want, and more about how we respond once we see things as they are: Will we look to Him? Will we sit at His feet? Will we trust Him and forge ahead, however we’re able?

…let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.

– Hebrews 12:1b-2

We are image bearers, becoming Who we behold even (especially) when it’s not easy to keep our focus. Like Mary of Bethany, who defied all kinds of opposition – including her closest family member and the cultural expectations of the day – to enter a room of men (scandalized gasp!) in order to sit at Jesus’ feet and learn from Him. She defied religious norms just like she’d seen Him do, and whenever she was attacked, Jesus came to her defense.

Mary was mantled with authority because of her grit.

The Lord helps them and rescues them;
he rescues them from the wicked and saves them
because they take refuge in him.

– Psalm 37:40

Another thing we talked about in church recently was the process of refining gold. My friend who has personal experience with this pointed out that when gold is refined, impurities are removed – which means the weight is reduced but the value is increased.

I must become less, He must become more…so we make space for Him to move, and give permission to Him to refine us.

Friend, if you are in a hard spot, do you see how He is letting you in to see the inner place, where most people aren’t willing to go? He’s showing you the place in His heart where He also went through change that felt like loss. Betrayals, misunderstandings, moves, and new directions. Rejection, people changing, culture shifting.

And He’s not wasting any of this.

…we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God.
And not only that, but we also boast in our afflictions,
knowing that affliction produces endurance,
and endurance produces character,
and character produces hope,
and hope does not put us to shame,
because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.

– Romans 5:2b-5

You know that one area that you’ve struggled with for so long – the one you’ve confessed and repented and prayed and changed habits for, but the battle is in the mind and you’re still at war, wondering if you’ll ever see victory. Wondering if things will ever change.

What if you started seeing yourself in that situation from God’s perspective? What if you saw it as He sees it now: after the resurrection, after death and hell have been defeated?

What if you stopped seeing yourself as bad at handling this situation? Because we fight from victory, not for it.

Much of the enemy’s game is just bluffing and confusion. He wants to convince us to agree with him that this is just how it is, this struggle is our “cross” (ooh, he’s good at twisting scripture!), and we just aren’t spiritual enough to figure this out yet.

But if we agree with God and know that we have been given every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, including the authority to trample the enemy to pieces, we’ll look at it (and ourselves) differently.

We’ll know this is a work in progress but that God is making the progress, and our situation was never hopeless.

We aren’t bad at dealing with it. We just haven’t seen how good we are at conquering it yet.

No, in all these things we are more than victorious through him who loved us.

— Romans 8:37

In difficulty, opposition, or loss – or sickness or frustration or lack – we can choose to forge ahead, even when we’re sitting still. We’re not looking at this through fear’s lens anymore, focusing on the negative possibilities. We’re not looking through defeat’s lens, feeling like it’s over too soon and we blew it.

No, now we see through victory’s lens: abiding, watching it play out, not responding with knee-jerk reactions, but making deliberate moves in trust, confident that the Lord is at work, and He’s giving us the wisdom we need for our work, too.

What will we do when there’s so little within reach? Will we build even when our resources are limited and the materials aren’t ideal? Will we keep going even when the way is more uphill than we expected?

As we look to Him, we start to see like He does, too, and our perspective changes. So…what if this situation isn’t what it looks like? He’s teaching us to be alert, and to recognize that some things are not just what they seem.

What if it’s not really sickness or hardship or loss? What if it’s actually protection and preparation and provision?

It’s not sickness, it’s immunity — this situation isn’t taking from our lives, but adding to it. With the right perspective and gritty surrender, it’s gain, not loss. It’s adding steel to our spines, integrity to our intentions, wisdom to our experience, strength to our mind and character, and the ability to withstand.

Because slow progress is preparation, not punishment. Every time we trust Him, we protect our path forward. So much is happening that we can’t see, and God is doing miracles in us in the meantime as we look toward Him.



This is now available if you’ve been burned out or discouraged, and need some fuel for your calling. Grit is the first in the Kindling series — short, powerful, beautiful books to help relight you. Just $7 for the instant download, and you get both the full-color version and the black & white printable version, too. xo