Stuck

Stuck. Stuck in the middle of re-entry, stuck in the house, stuck in uncertainty. And now she’s stuck in mud, literally. They’ve ripped up all the trees and shrubs and every inch of green on their block, rearranged the levels and have piles of dirt everywhere.

Some days feel like wading through mud, thick, sludgy and certainly not clear. Entering the supermarket and seeing empty shelves, anxiety creeps up her chest and reaches a sludgy hand over her mouth and it’s difficult to breathe.  She’s not alone. Fear and uncertainty are smothering many.

The lady at the fabric store yesterday, worry weighing her down so that her body seizes, and she can barely move.

‘I’ll go broke if I have to close,’ the fabric lady said as she breathed in fear.

‘Well, I pray that this will be a time when God will show you His miraculous provision,’ she answered, breathing out faith.

The fabric lady turns her head away, lowers her eyes. ‘We’ll see.’

And her heart twists, Lord, show her who you are, show her your love for her.

‘Feed your faith, starve your fears,’ was the message she heard this morning. Like all those weeds, ripped up by their roots, starved of life, they wither and die. And the soil is churned, and nutrients added, and plants are planted, and life transforms the drab, muddy landscape.

So today she adds some nutrients to her faith and chokes those weed-like fears she doesn’t need right now, right out of her life.

She’s not as stuck as she seems. Faith sprouts new within.