Breadcrumbs in the Fog

It has become easier to see the breadcrumbs God lays out for me, and I eagerly pick them up now. But once I have picked them up, I find I still struggle to know exactly where the trail leads. It’s like breadcrumbs in the fog. There is this great excitement in hearing from God and seeing him move in some amazing way. But ahead lies a huge wall of fog, and I really have no idea what lies within it or beyond it. Maybe it’s better that way . . . maybe we are not meant to know. Maybe we would say no if we knew what lie ahead! But in the vacuum of not knowing, I find I have this tendency to prepare grand visions along the way. Unsatisfied with the breadcrumb alone, I build castles in the air. Elaborate plans of how God and I are going to save the world. I do believe that some of them are, at least in part, of God. But often, I run ahead, making my own plans, too impatient to wait on God.

Looking back, I can see this definite pattern:

The breadcrumb—clear signs and invitations from God . . .

The grand vision I tend to create . . .

Then walking on, past my grand vision, to the place God had intended for me in the first place.

I have come to believe the breadcrumbs aren’t really even about work he wanted to do in the world—an event, a program, a ministry. More often, I believe, they are about the work he wanted to do in me. What happens in the world as a result of the transformation in me . . . well, that’s completely up to God.

Reminiscing on Revelation

So, as I sat in seclusion with God in this moment away from the world, I reflected back on the journey . . .

God called me from a career in medical research to HorsePower. I was going to expand programs to help people with disabilities and start this horse ministry to help troubled youth. I would build grandiose facilities and develop a network of collaborations in the community. God showed me how to love people who were very different from me. How to hear his voice, and trust his provision. God opened my eyes to the lukewarm church . . . and to the Pharisee that lived within me.

God called me to a Christian church camp. I was going to build a big barn and offer all kinds of programming, using horses to help everyone from the disabled, to churched youth, to troubled youth, to women from the jail and their families. God taught me to buck “the system,” to make room for him to show up and show off so that all could see his glory. He revealed once again, in an even bigger way, that he would provide. He continued to break my heart for what breaks his and provided so much textbook and real-life training on trauma and how it affects his children—even his grown children. He moved me from operating under the Law . . . to yielding to the Spirit. He was teaching me how to love . . . lavishly.

God opened the doors to ministry with FaithSearch International. I was going to speak to large audiences at all the local churches and I planned elaborate conferences. God sent me into the jail and the behavioral health center where at times I ministered to just one or two people. God showed me the power of ministering in the moment, to whomever he called for that day. God helped me set planning aside and learn to trust the Holy Spirit. God gave me glimpses of true discipleship and the power of exponential multiplication like that of the early church. Not by any of my own doing . . . but by the power of the Spirit moving in me and through me.

There was a brief season where I held many “jobs.” Looking back, I still don’t know if it was a necessary time of “tent-making,” or if it was my disobedience or lack of trust. But even in that season, God continued to teach me many things. My eyes were opened even further to the ways that business practices have encroached upon ministry, where faithful missionaries can be crippled by the expectations of boards and bosses. The allure of a well-paying job and a brief foray back into science, brought rise to some of the “old me” —faint whisperings of comfort from a steady salary, accolades from peers, power from position . . . but the taste was bitter in my mouth. Rather, he sent a promise of provision so I could pursue him more fully.

God called me to Chrysalis. I was going to provide a place to live, a place to work, and a place to heal. I pursued million-dollar properties. Almost singlehandedly, I was going to save these women, “fixing” them and all their problems. There was a rise of the Pharisee and a resurgence of the Law. God brought me back to my knees. God walked me deeper into the darkness. My heart was broken even more . . . even as I realized my complete inadequacy to fix any of what he had revealed to me.

Less is More

Perhaps the scientist in me will never really go away because, in looking back, what I could clearly see was an inverse relationship, which can be defined this way: “An inverse relationship is one in which the value of one parameter tends to decrease as the value of the other parameter in the relationship increases.” Plotted on a graph, over time, there was a clear inverse correlation between God . . . and me. Along each step of that journey, God became greater, I became less. That’s biblical, I know. But rather than a lofty, theological concept, I now see it as this big X on a graph, with God’s line rising over time, even as my line goes steadily down. I don’t know exactly where I am on the graph. I know we are past the midpoint, where God has definitely become greater than me in my own eyes. I pray now that I will continue to surrender until I hit zero on the x-axis. That I am nothing, but for Christ in me.

I find comfort that this tendency I struggle with is not unique to me. Oswald Chambers, a man after God’s own heart and writing over a century ago, said it like this:

“We always have visions, before a thing is made real. When we realize that although the vision is real, it is not real in us, then is the time that Satan comes in with his temptations, and we are apt so say it is no use to go on. Instead of the vision becoming real, there has come the valley of humiliation.

Life is not as idle ore,

But iron dug from central gloom,

And batter’d by the shocks of doom

To shape and use.

God gives us the vision, then He takes us down to the valley to batter us into the shape of the vision, and it is in the valley that so many of us faint and give way. Every vision will be made real if we will have patience. Think of the enormous leisure of God! He is never in a hurry. We are always in such a frantic hurry. In the light of the glory of the vision we go forth to do things, but the vision is not real in us yet; and God has to take us into the valley, and put us through fires and floods to batter us into shape, until we get to the place where He can trust us with the veritable reality. Ever since we had the vision God has been at work, getting us into the shape of the ideal, and over and over again we escape from His hand and try to batter ourselves into our own shape.

The vision is not a castle in the air, but a vision of what God wants you to be. Let Him put you on His wheel and whirl you as He likes, and as sure as God is God and you are you, you will turn out exactly in accordance with the vision. Don’t lose heart in the process. If you have ever had the vision of God, you may try as you like to be satisfied on a lower level, but God will never let you.”

Obedience is the End

So, as I reflect on this breadcrumb trail that he has led me down, it begins to make more sense. God’s plan does look very different in the rearview mirror than it did when I started down any given stretch of the trail. I see now that the breadcrumbs were still clearly from God, but what I thought would happen in between the breadcrumbs was often different than what God did in between the breadcrumbs. And, again . . . his plan was always better than mine.

To quote Oswald Chambers one more time . . . “What we call the process, God calls the end. . . . If we have a further end in view, we do not pay sufficient attention to the immediate present; if we realize that obedience is the end, then each moment as it comes is precious.” May I learn to live in obedience . . . and in the moment. Trusting God with the plan, and the outcome of my obedience. A willing servant. Here am I Lord. Send me.

I think of the “fires and floods” of these past years and I find myself grateful, for I am different than I was. Far from perfect . . . but hopefully just a little more Christ-like, every day. In this chrysalis of God’s making, I am being transformed by the renewing of my mind. I am a new creation. The old is gone, the new has come. I have been born again! So, take heart, my dear Nicodemus. There is more. Start picking up breadcrumbs . . . and trust God in the fog!

With love,

Kaia

“He must become greater;

I must become less.”

John 3:30 NIV

“Obey me, and I will be your God and

you will be my people. Walk in

obedience to all I command you, that it

may go well with you.”

Jeremiah 7:23 NIV

“Then I heard the voice of the Lord

saying, “Whom shall I send? And who

will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I.

Send me!””

Isaiah 6:8 NIV

“However, I consider my life worth

nothing to me; my only aim is to

finish the race and complete the

task the Lord Jesus has given me—

the task of testifying to the

good news of God’s grace.”

Acts 20:24 NIV