Finding Comfort Outside Your Comfort Zone

When the people of Israel saw the mighty power that the Lord had unleashed against the Egyptians, they were filled with awe before him. They put their faith in the Lord and in his servant Moses. (Exodus 14:31 NLT)

Sometimes God takes us out of our comfortable lives to show us how much we need him.

Our cat, Shadow, found us when we lived atop a mountain out in the country. We built our house across from a horse pasture, and a weathered barn sat in the foreground of our spectacular sunsets. During one of these sunsets, Shadow sauntered up to our front steps. We assumed she lived in or around the barn, finding plenty of small critters to entertain and nourish her. Both curious and timid, she wouldn’t let us pet her, but she was happy to enjoy a few bites of our rotisserie chicken.

Over the next few days, Shadow made more frequent appearances on our property. We put our hands out so she could approach us on her terms. We checked with our equestrian neighbors to make sure she was, in fact, unattached. Within a week, she was “ours.”

Like many cats, Shadow established the rules of our relationship. She let us feed her and, on occasion, pet her. She was no lap cat and would leap away if we tried to force that role on her. We were happy to provide her kibble in exchange for her hunting skills. She often left the disgusting evidence of her worth on our doorstep.

When we decided to move to the city, she came along unwillingly in a pet crate. Everything was new to her, and the shock was too much. She disappeared for several days. Just when we’d given up hope, I saw her cautiously make her way out of a tree in the backyard. Her paws brought her ever so slowly closer to me as I waited patiently.

The cat who had refused to sit on my lap in her own comfort zone now found it was the only comfortable thing she knew. She kneaded my thighs and climbed on for a rest. I could almost feel her sigh as the days of upheaval finally ended. Over the next few weeks, Shadow looked for opportunities to jump into my lap. Once fiercely independent, she finally settled in as a part of our family in this strange land.

Standing in an Uncomfortable Place

Exodus 14:31 marks a period of transition for the children of Israel. As the Israelites left Egypt under Moses’s command, God split the Red Sea so they could escape Pharaoh’s pursuit. He then sent the water crashing down on the Egyptian army. In this verse the Israelites now stand on the shores of the Red Sea, watching the bodies of drowned Egyptian soldiers float ashore.

Once the Israelites realize the enormity of this act of God, they finally grasp how powerful he is. After four hundred years of pseudo-self-sufficiency as slaves in Egypt, the newly freed Israelites put their faith in their God. They had to step away from the life they knew—their comfortable rhythms and routines—to truly know the God who rescues and redeems. Only in the discomfort did they find true rest.

I find myself on the other side of the Red Sea from time to time—removed from comfortable and familiar. In this new place, my footing is off, and my faith is shaky. God is my only refuge in these times of upheaval. When he takes me out of my self-sufficient comfort zone, he makes me fully dependent on him. Initially, that feels harsh, but eventually, it feels like a gift. Replacing my strength with his lets me rest in him.

Shadow wasn’t the only lost soul after our move. I loved living on that mountain, and I loved our life there. Moving shook me. While I couldn’t physically climb up in a tree to hide, I hid inside myself. I questioned why God asked me to leave my cozy life. Unable to find comfort on my own, I curled up in his presence because it was the only place that felt like home.

In the months after our move, God took me through the Red Sea. Standing on the unfamiliar shore on the other side, I began to see signs of God’s rescue wash up. More than any of the post-move wonders, the shift inside me may have been the biggest miracle of our move. Like my cat who went from fiercely independent to lovingly dependent, I learned to rest in the presence of my faithful God.

If you find yourself in an uncomfortable new place, perhaps this is an invitation to find comfort in God. Look around for signs of his faithfulness washing up on the unfamiliar shore. Here you will find him ready to comfort you with his strength and presence.

Father God, we praise you, our faithful God of strength. You provide comfort when we’re out of sorts. You’re willing to hear our questions during periods of transition and meet us with patience and love. Thank you for not allowing us to remain comfortable, but instead take us to a new place where our faith grows. Amen.

 

 Scripture for Reflection

Then Moses and the Israelites sang this song to the Lord. They said:

I will sing to the Lord,

for he is highly exalted;

he has thrown the horse

and its rider into the sea.

 

The Lord is my strength and my song;

he has become my salvation.

This is my God, and I will praise him,

my father’s God, and I will exalt him. (Exodus 15:1–2 CSB)

 

God is our refuge and strength,

 

an ever-present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way

and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,

though its waters roar and foam

and the mountains quake with their surging. (Psalm 46:1–3 NLT)

Reach for More

This week, spend time in the Psalms, a beautiful record of the psalmists finding their comfort in God. As you read their words of praise and honest confessions of discomfort, make them your own. Let the poetry remind you of God’s faithfulness and power. Find comfort as you worship him. Here are a few psalms to get you started: Psalm 9, Psalm 34, and Psalm 91.

Kelly Smith is a small town girl who married a small town man. They have three children. In the quiet minutes of her day, you will find her at the keyboard or curled up with a book–always with coffee. Kelly believes we are created for community and loves to find ways to connect with other women who are walking in the shadow of the cross. She blogs at mrsdisciple.com.

Photograph © Brooke Cagle, used with permission