I love New England. I grew up in a town called North Stonington, CT, just a few miles from Mystic Seaport on the Mystic River pictured above. I enjoy calming places within reach to catch my breath from the un-beautiful moments of life—moments that require me to wait for answers or understanding. Here’s an excerpt from my journal during a time that the wait felt long: I prefer my days to move forward like clockwork—a sure formula that trust and obedience breed the bounty of safety, health, and ease. But I cannot contain God to my favorite Scriptures. Nor can I dance as a model of victory over trouble—an icon of His favor. Sometimes I don’t quite like my conclusion. But my history with God shows that I would be a fool to trade one moment of waiting on Him, for quick self-serving answers where I refuse to listen for His voice or tap into His love.
We never know when a moment will take our breath away or when another one will knock the breath out of us. If we take strategic measures to set our hearts on pilgrimage with God, we can come through valleys with a different kind of strength than we went in. Check out the video below to consider two kinds of moments.
The Treasure: “If you are walking in darkness, without a ray of light, trust in the Lord and rely on your God.” (Isaiah 50:10 TNLT)
If you’d rather read than watch the video, here’s the full video transcript:
Some moments take our breath away; other moments knock the breath out of us.
Moments of awe take our breath away.
Moments of trauma knock the breath out of us.
I’m here in New England because our family just faced some moments that knocked the breath out of us with a stroke, a brain surgery, and a sudden traumatic death. In each of these events, we were scared, we prayed, and we were scared again.
Moments of trouble and trauma that send us into a valley remind us that we are not in control. In every valley there’s an undetermined distance between sorrow and joy, between crisis and calm. And although these valleys can feel like heaven’s halt, they’re also an invitation to take a pilgrimage with God.
Ancient musicians of the temple in biblical times of wrote songs about this kind of pilgrimage. My favorite one goes like this:
“Blessed are those whose strength is in God, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage. As they pass through the valley of weeping, they make it a place of springs.”
One week after entering our family valley, life looks like this: The brain surgery was successful, and we rejoice; the stroke victim works hard to swallow again and we pray; survivors of the tragic death mourn their loss, and we walk beside them.
Joy and sorrow follow us all through our lives. In times of sorrow in valleys of weeping, how have you experienced tears becoming springs?
If you or someone you know are in a valley of weeping, my first book that’s available now for preorder may be helpful. It’s called, Rediscover the Dance, Rising faith in the aftermath of trauma. You can check it out on my website: dawnlinton.com.
Meanwhile, whether you’re in a valley or just coming out of one, let’s put our strength in God and set our hearts on pilgrimage so we come through future valleys stronger than we go in.
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