Tennies, Mud and God

It's been a dry, dry year so far in Kansas with extreme drought conditions causing the ground to become cracked and broken, the trees to show significant signs of distress and many crops to wither and die before they could produce a harvest. My heart goes out to all those whose livelihoods depend upon an adequate amount of liquid falling from the sky, and I know that those folks have been rejoicing for the last couple of days as God opened the heavens and blessed us with slow, steady, gentle, ground-soaking rains.

Yesterday, a friend and I traveled to Hidden Haven Christian Camp ... a rustic church camp located deep in the woods at the end of a winding gravel road. My sweet friend drove for our short journey (that seems to be a new theme for me ... friends driving me from town to town ... I can't help but wonder if I'm turning into Miss Daisy), and we were about halfway to our destination when it began to rain ... and rain ... and rain. As the paved road gave way to gravel, my first thought was, "If we get stuck in the mud, my red Converse tennies are going to be ruined if we have to hike out on foot." Nope, I didn't worry about the car getting dinged by gravel or us catching pneumonia or being eaten by wild animals ... I worried about my bright red shoes. Tell me that's not a gal who has her priorities in order.

We made it to the camp without being eaten by renegade bears or goats or rhinos, found the building where we needed to be, parked the car and tiptoed carefully through the mud ... well, I tiptoed carefully through the mud as my friend made fun of my attempt to keep my red Converse shoes from getting dirty. I didn't tell her that when we went to our room to drop off our things and change clothes before the evening session began, I sneaked into the restroom, dampened a few paper towels, and tried my best to wipe the muddy spots off of my beloved shoes.

I've got much more to share about the weekend ... much, much more, in fact. But tonight, I'm pooped and need to climb into my bed with my hound dogs and get some sleep. I do, however, want to share a huge lesson that God taught me almost from the minute my friend and I arrived at the camp, a lesson about His amazing love for each one of us. I was nervous about speaking last night, due in part to the subject matter I had been asked to talk about ... you see, the ladies in charge had specifically asked me to share with the women about my battle with depression and about the path I've walked for the last couple of years. As I stood in the back of the big room listening to the large crowd of women lift their voices in worship before I spoke, I looked down at my red shoes and thought about the mud I had tried so desperately to avoid as I entered the building. My eyes filled with tears as I heard Him whisper ever so gently, "Look at Me, child ... don't worry about the mud from where you've been walking ... look at Me. Just look at Me, and remember who you are ... my beloved child ... put your hand in Mine, and know that I love you, I love you, I love you ... just see Me and My love for you ... just see Me and not the mud."