He Restores My Soul
Have you ever felt it? The soul-weariness that clings like a tattered rag? I have. Our journey over the past months was unexpected, life-changing, exhilarating, draining, full of faith and trust, yet soul-shattering all at the same time. I never knew if each day would be yet another day of holding back the tears (unsuccessfully) or a day in which my heart would swell with thankfulness, hope, and joy at the goodness of God. Most days were a mixture of both. In September of 2024, our family joyfully flew back to our home and mission in Niger, West Africa, as we had done after every Home Assignment we had taken over the past 15 years. Niger was home. It was familiar. We had experienced such joys and sorrows there, invested years in learning language and culture, and had cultivated such deep and lasting relationships with people that we felt as if our souls were knit into the very fabric of the nation. That was God’s doing. He often places the seed of a calling into a willing heart – just like Mary, who accepted her assignment with, “Be it unto me as you have said.” I would often look out over the vast and desolate wilderness and wonder at the love that would swell in my heart for this nation’s people and her land. I knew it was the love of God within me, bubbling up and overflowing with incredible, indescribable love for the people of Niger. We had no idea that within the next two months, the Lord would completely uproot us and ask us to begin the painful process of transition. When we were asked to pray about coming back to the United States for Jonathan to fill the much-needed role of Director of Global Ministries at Elim Fellowship, we were genuinely surprised as we prayed and heard a resounding YES from the Lord. He graciously reinforced that yes with confirmation after jaw-dropping confirmation. This was His will. Thus began the process of sorting through and dismantling our home and life of 15 years. The decisions, the sorting, the packing, and the goodbyes left us wearied and worn. Our souls felt threadbare, like roots dangling helplessly in the air as plants do when being transplanted. The time in between soils is a delicate and vulnerable time for a plant. We felt much the same as we “dangled” in between our life in Niger and a new, unknown life back in the States.
Through each step of our entire transition, we felt the guiding, gentle hands of our Gardener, the Lord, loosening the soil of an old season, pulling us out carefully, sustaining us, preparing the soil for the next, placing us into the new season, then firmly packing in the soil and ever-watering us with the refreshing flow of His Spirit. As transplanted, living things do, we looked and felt wilted and weak. We were completely reliant on the Gardener.
As I sit and reflect on the soul-weariness what comes with transition, I hear the still-small invitation once again, as it has come, time and time again. Come unto Me, all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. The gentle voice of the Shepherd beckons. The choice is mine to come to Him. Just as Mary, the sister of Martha, chose the better thing, sitting at Jesus’ feet, so I can choose to find the quiet place under the shadow of His wings. He restores my soul. As I abide in Him, He causes good fruit to come forth in my life. The rivers of living water, the abundant life, that Jesus promised can flow. “It’s not by might, not by power, but by My Spirit,” says the Lord. The same Spirit that produces rivers of living water flowing forth from our lives. Not our strength. Not our power. Not our life-giving water. It is His. Yet one thing is ours. The choice to come to Him.
Our family is now on the other side of our transition, and each day our little roots spread a bit further into the new soil of a new season. As we have looked to Him for hope and joy and wholeness, He has proven Himself faithful yet again. He has, once again, made His strength perfect in our weakness. We stand amazed at His grace, often shown through His Body – so many have surrounded us with prayer, love, encouragement, and support. We are so grateful.
I don’t know what you are walking through right now. It may be transition, a heart-plunging diagnosis, a broken relationship, family concerns, financial challenges, unmet expectations, or a myriad of other trials. You may feel like that plant, vulnerable and exposed, dangling in the air, lacking the support and familiarity of an old season, familiar routines, or the love and support you once had. Soul-weary. But there is one constant in our lives - the One who is the same yesterday, today, and forever. His faithfulness and goodness never change. He is the Shepherd who is leading you, the Potter who is forming you, and the Vine that is sustaining you. Abide in Him. Hear His voice. Trust Him. Accept His invitation.
And as we sit at His feet, laying our burdens at the foot of the cross, casting our cares upon Him, and worshipping Him, a miracle takes place… He restores our souls.
Do you hear His whisper to your heavy, troubled soul?
Come unto Me, all you who are weary and heavy laden…