Stirring the waters

Something is stirring.  I can feel it in my soul.  I haven't seen it with my physical eyes yet, but my spirit eyes have found a pin prick of light in this dark night of the soul.  For so long I've joined the Psalmist in soaking my bed with tears.  Grief is deep and consuming, friends.  He was with me.  I felt his tears, rested my cheek against his broken heart.

But something has changed.  This past week or two, I've been taken back to some places in the Scripture where the Lord led me just before we heard about JP.  He's grown me, loved me, shown me again that when I'm stretched with the ache of waiting, He fills the space with more of his Spirit, with Thanksgiving.  And something has changed.  The message has changed.  It's as though He has suddenly flipped the switch from a time of grieving and crying out, to saying, "Stand up.  It's time to walk forward."

Think maybe I sound whacky?  

At church this morning, I shared that feeling with a friend and mentor who has been so faithful to pray for me and encourage me these past months.  As soon as I finished, she said, "I just read that this morning in Exodus!  Just before God parted the Red Sea!"  I got to my Bible as quickly as I could and, sure enough, there it was.  How had I missed it before?

Just as the Egyptians were about to ride down upon the despairing Israelites and take them back into bondage, I saw a familiar verse:

Moses answered the people, "Do not be afraid.  Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the LORD will bring you today...The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still."

I've prayed that one many times.  But then...

Then the LORD said to Moses, "Why are you crying out to me?  Tell the Israelites to move on.  Raise your staff and stretch out your hand over the sea to divide the water so that the Israelites can go through the sea on dry ground." 

There is most definitely a time for crying out.  But now it is time to move: through praying, fasting, believing, preparing for the way to be made to the Promised Land where we will gather our children and bring them home.  

I can hear the waters stirring.