This has been an odd 16 months for me. I’ve talked some about how my word for last year–and now this year–is RELEASE.

I knew it wouldn’t be an easy word, but I had no idea just how deep and hard this period would be. Usually I’d follow that with an assurance that it’s all good, but today I have to admit it’s hard and I’m weary. Sunday I escaped for a bit to a park near where we live for time to process, pray and journal about some hard questions I’m being asked to answer. The kind of questions that probe to deep identity. The questions that if I wrestle honestly with them could change the trajectory of how I live my life.

As I was walking in the park after journaling, I saw the trees above. It is finally turning to spring in Indiana, and I took photos of so many delicate flowers. There was something powerful about this though.

From a distance, the trees look like they’re each doing exactly what they’re supposed to…their growing in place and shooting off new growth in the form of green leaves. But when you step closer to the tree in the middle you realize, the bark is peeling and it’s battered…ignore that it’s a birch for a moment. That’s how this last year has felt. Like God is peeling back layer after layer.

I know it’s for my good. If I didn’t, I have plenty of people who are willing to tell me that lest I forget. But there is pain in the peeling.

This has been a season of wilderness.

Below is a photo I took in March in the Jordanian wilderness. It’s barren, but I find comfort in the verse:

Therefore, I (God) am going to persuade her, lead her to the wilderness, and speak tenderly to her.

If you feel God has lead you to a wilderness place, lean into Him. And trust that He will work it for your good as He speaks tenderly to you. And then we can compare notes.