Sometimes the thing we think will be our undoing is actually our lifeline, even if it’s not obvious at the time.
My husband built a heated cat condo on our back deck about seven and a half years ago to help care for the feral colony of kitties we inherited with our present home. Last week I noticed two wasps on the inside of the upper level window. I wondered why they didn't fly out,
and I was worried they had made a nest and maybe there were more.
Today I saw there was one still on the same window and I got curious. My access to the upper level is limited to a small cat-sized entrance on the side
opposite where the wasp was. I cautiously put my face to the opening and looked around for a wasp nest, but didn't see one. I ran a long stick up to the window to see if the wasp would crawl onto it so I could bring him out. The wasp followed his instincts to dodge my efforts. Finally, with persistence and tricky maneuvering, I was able to get the wasp on the stick. Surprisingly (gratefully) he didn't try to fly.
I suspected this wasp was near the end of its lifecycle and lacking energy. I brought the stick out and flicked him into the grass. I have this personal policy. If a creature is going to die on my watch, they're at least going to die in the grass under the sky. And maybe this wasp lived. I
don't know, but I did my part and offered him a lifeline in the form of a stick that may have seemed threatening at first.
We must be on the lookout for lifelines that come in all sorts of disguises. The 2004 injury that
took me out of pharmaceutical sales for good in 2005 was devastating, and yet led to an authentic life of doing what I was made to do. Summed up in four letters, I'm here to offer hope, because I, too, have been hopeless.
The truth is, I had grown to hate my sales job, and knew I was supposed to be doing else with my life, but I lacked the courage to do anything different. It offered great pay and security, so I stayed (and stayed miserable). The injury, terrible as that season was, turned out to be my lifeline.
Naturally I didn't know it was a "good thing" at the time. It felt like a death sentence. I endured five years of pain, surgeries, and physical limitation. I had little hope. Life as I knew it had ended and my days were suddenly reduced to frequent doctor and physical therapy visits, and constant stretching and strengthening exercises at home. I had no idea how I would spend the rest of my life professionally or
personally, but it seemed bleak.
This is how Finding the
Gift came to be. In the depths of my suffering, spiritual downloads of encouragement came to me. If you don't know my story, it's in the introduction section of my book. Out of that intense physical hardship, my new life was born and I'm so grateful.
What are you rejecting today? What are you dodging and wishing away? Take another look. Even if you can't see it, maybe this is the beginning of a new season? A new chapter? Something better than you could have hoped for! We have to trust that all things are working for our good, because they are—even when the gifts are gift-wrapped in obstacles.
Today, may you try on a new pair of glasses to consider how your present struggle could be working in your favor. And if you can't find any connection that can be seen as positive, may you receive an extra portion of trust that everything is working out in your favor right now, even as you read this. One day, you may
see why it had to happen this way.
Wishing you abundant hope and trust today!
