God Is in the Middle of Every Season
During graduate school, it took an embarrassing amount of encouragement and cheerleading from my friends and family for me to complete my degree. While I’d been a big fish in a small pond as an undergraduate, I was now a tiny, very naïve fish in a rather large lake. I regularly wanted to quit, even as far along as the halfway point. My mom, though, would faithfully remind me that there was no use quitting when I was already halfway through.
We’ve all been there, right? Begin anything, and right in the middle, when everything feels overwhelming, frustrating, and maybe even pointless, we are ready to wave the white flag of surrender.
My husband and I have a hobby of renovating spaces, everything from simple painting and re-flooring to taking a room down to its studs and reconfiguring the whole space. Demo work is fun and cathartic. Shopping for the new parts of the room is exhilarating. But the middle of the project, where the mess is six feet deep and the only way out is through? That’s my surrender point.
In the middle of some seasons, though, the reward of a degree or beautifully remodeled space isn’t waiting for us. Perhaps we can’t see what’s looming at the end of a long journey, or maybe what’s waiting isn’t what we want. What happens to our hearts in these circumstances? What I honestly pray in this kind of mess is that God would rescue me from it, which, in his graciousness, he doesn’t usually do.
Have you ever considered that God is a God of middles? Psalm 23, a beautiful example of Hebrew poetry, is centered on this idea. “I will fear no evil, for you are with me,” is the epicenter of the poem, both in placement and focus. The psalm works from the middle out, urging us to filter every other thought through the reality of God’s presence. In the middle of our circumstances, whether the outcome is known or not, David urges us to rest in the presence of God.
From beginning to end, Psalm 23 reminds us that we are in the Lord’s hands. He provides rest, nourishment, and stillness. He is the caretaker of our souls. Wherever we are right now is . He is Emmanuel, “God with us,” and therefore, he is steadfast. In the same way God anoints David’s head with oil as an intimate sign of favor and covenant, we are anointed with the indwelling of the Holy Spirit as a guarantee of God’s commitment to our good and his glory.
These truths are not easy to remember in the middle of yet another argument with our kids. In the middle of our holiday celebration with the empty chair. In the middle of a long season at a dead-end job. In the middle of a seemingly unending pandemic. In the middle of social unrest and political clashes. In the middle of weariness and burnout. But God meets us right there, in the middle of the turmoil, with the eternal, life-giving, nourishing presence of Christ within us. If we choose his presence.
Even Paul recognizes the middle tension we face: “Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:12-14 ESV).
While “straining” and “press[ing] on” may not sound restful in normal circumstances, in the spiritual realm they become the pathway to rest. Paul urges us to lay aside all other striving so that we can focus all of our energy, passions, resources to “gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith—that I may know him and the power of his resurrection” (Phil. 3:8-10 ESV ESV). For in Jesus’ presence is fullness of rest.
God, in the middle of this season, in whatever place or mindset or heart condition we find ourselves, awaken us to you, right here, in the middle with us, being our rest and promising us eternal life in you. Amen.
is a writer and teacher who lives with her family in South Carolina. When she’s not pondering words, she enjoys hiking, learning about natural health, and drinking the perfect latte. Allison loves to connect with others about family, special needs parenting, mental health, grief, and faith. Her writing has been featured on The Mighty and Her View from Home, and you can find more of it on her blog Writing Is Cheaper Than Therapy.
Photograph © Jose Hernandez-Uribe, used with permission
