This is the Way, Walk in It

The wrestle was real. I have gained greater appreciation for the struggle these women have with their addictions. I can remember thinking, why don’t they just quit drinking? Why don’t they just give up drugs? I couldn’t really relate, because I had never had an addiction . . . or so I thought. I was realizing, more and more, that while my addictions may be different—perhaps even socially acceptable—they are addictions, none the less. God was opening my eyes to that same struggle in me. Why couldn’t I just leave my old self-righteous, judgmental self behind? How easily I slipped back into my own sins. The ruts are deep. The path familiar. I was realizing it takes a lot of work . . . and a lot of time. At least for some of us.

So, throughout the season of Chrysalis, I found myself not only “slipping” . . . I had a full-on relapse! I had fallen off the wagon, as they say. As I stepped into the leadership role, as I had a board and donors to appease, as I began to provide for and “fix” these women . . . the old me was back in a big way. I was in control and my old sense of legalism was rearing its ugly head. The grace and unconditional love God had been working so hard to put in the place of my judgment seemed to slip away as, once again, I began to judge their behaviors. They weren’t following the rules! They didn’t do things the way I thought they should. And I’m embarrassed to admit that it didn’t only bother me for their own good—it bothered me because of how it reflected on Chrysalis . . . on me. After all, people were watching.

It totally changed the relationships I had been working so hard to foster. Some became frustrated with my sudden need to control them and to “oversee” them. I remember one saying, “I don’t need another probation officer! I already have one!” What she needed was a friend. Others came to expect and rely on the things we offered, with a sense of entitlement that only served to distance their affection and feed my judgment. Obstacles . . . so many obstacles.

Once again, I was so confused. Were these just hard transitions that I needed to press through? Or were they signs I was heading the wrong way? Was God shaping and redirecting? Or was the devil obstructing and diverting? I was so confused. I needed time to think. No, I needed time with God. I had to be still. I had to quit running on the hamster wheel for a minute and seek the counsel of the only One who had the right answers.

My amazing husband supported me in the decision to take a weekend to just get away, a spiritual retreat of sorts. I checked into an extended stay hotel that had a little kitchenette. I wouldn’t leave for 48 hours. No TV. No phone. Just me and God. I prayed, I journaled, I listened to praise and worship music. I dug into the Word. He led me to the most interesting places . . .

Listening to the Voice of God

On Saturday morning, my devotional was on listening to the voice of God. Apt, considering that is just what I had come to do! However, it came with a sting of conviction. Here I was. Expecting the God of the universe to show up on my timeline. Now I had time. Now I was ready to listen. How arrogant, really . . . And yet, our amazing God did show up! Even as he may have been frustrated by my failure to listen or hear or heed before or offended by my arrogance to suggest he show up like a genie when you rub the bottle…I think he was just pleased that his child wanted to meet with Him. Needed to meet with him.

I think back on my journey in prayer. How often I had done it out of a sense of obligation, of duty. How often I had muttered a rote, memorized prayer, even as I thought of other things. How often I had prattled through a list. How often I had prayed only when I needed something. How often I had done all the talking—probably not really expecting to hear anything back. But on this journey, I had come to realize that prayer is a dialogue, a conversation. I actually expected to hear from him. I looked forward to our visits. So, as we sat together on this morning, he led me to scripture after scripture . . . taking me to places in the Bible where he had spoken to his people before. In different times, in different places, under different circumstances . . . but God remains the same. He talks to his people. Maybe not through a burning bush or writing on the wall. But he still wants to speak to us. Henry Blackaby has summarized it well, I think . . . “God speaks by the Holy Spirit through the Bible, prayer, circumstances and the church to reveal himself, his purposes and his ways.”

God led me to Isaiah 30 and 31, where it talks of when the Israelites were unwilling to listen to the Lord’s instruction. Going so far as to tell the prophets to quit bringing visions of what is right—they just wanted to hear what they wanted to hear . . . pleasant things. Indeed, they kept turning to Egypt, rather than God. Relying on the strength of men and horses. They needed to be reminded that “ . . . the Egyptians are men and not God; their horses are flesh and not Spirit.” But, we are also reminded that when we cry for help, he will be gracious and he will answer us.

Isaiah 30:21 was a verse that seemed to leap off the page . . . and to keep coming up in different contexts: “Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.” I remember thinking, “Why is the voice coming from behind? I want to be walking with God!” And then, it was like, “Duh. It was referring to when we have walked away from him.” I had strayed to the right or to the left.

John 10 speaks of the Good Shepherd and his flock. His sheep will listen to his voice and follow him. They follow him because they know his voice. They will never follow a stranger—they will run away from him. What voice was I listening to . . .?

And then there is the time where God speaks to the church of Laodicea, through John, in Revelation 3. It was described as neither hot nor cold . . . it was complacent! The church, personified, cries, “I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.” Again, it reminded me of the church, of many Christians, today—arrogant, self-sufficient . . . comfortable! But scripture goes on to say, they were actually “wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked.” Again, I was reminded of how God had revealed my poverty. How blind I had been, for so long. How I thought I had been dressed so finely, but I had been naked.

What stands out most to me to this day, however, was reading in 1 Samuel 15 about how the prophet, Samuel, had relayed God’s message to Saul that he was to annihilate the Amalekites. To leave no survivors. To “put to death men and women, children and infants, cattle and sheep, camels and donkeys.” Yet, in spite of these clear instructions, Saul decided to take their king, alive, and keep the best of the sheep and the cattle . . . and he set up a monument in his own honor. He didn’t obey God’s instructions, and he took the glory for himself. Yet, when he saw Samuel, he said, “I have carried out the Lord’s instructions!” And Samuel’s response is another part that jumped right up off the page at me . . . “What then is this bleating of sheep I hear in my ears?” Again, I felt the sting of conviction. Try as I might to have followed God’s leading, somewhere, once again, I felt as though I must have done what was right in my own eyes. I asked the Lord, “What are my “bleating sheep”? Where did I stray to the right or to the left? Where did I get it wrong?”

Taking Things into My Own Hands

As I thought back on the journey to develop Chrysalis, there had been these “perfect” properties—big houses, roomy shops, riding facilities . . . but none of those doors had opened. In the meantime, I had been moved out of the institutions, due to COVID. I was now walking right alongside women going through some really hard things. I was having to watch them as they were homeless, and struggling to find work, and facing challenges that were beyond my comprehension. Perhaps things had just not moved fast enough for me! Perhaps I had decided to rent houses. Perhaps I had decided how best to “help” these women. And, perhaps, I had made them somewhat of a monument . . . to me. This was beginning to sound familiar. Our impatience or impertinence can have serious consequences. I felt so convicted, so repentant.

I heard a story once, about a man who spotted a butterfly as it struggled to emerge from its chrysalis. Feeling sorry for it, in its exhausting struggle, the man set about to help. Using a scissors, he carefully cut away the restraining chrysalis, and the butterfly staggered out. But something didn’t look quite right. Its abdomen was swollen and its wings were wet and furled, appearing stunted. The man waited to see when it would take its first flight, but its wings never did unfurl. They never fully developed. This butterfly was destined only to walk, never learning to fly. The man later learned that struggling to escape the chrysalis was actually a critical part of the process. Squeezing out that tiny opening would force the fluid out of its body up into the wings so that it would be ready for flight once it found freedom from the chrysalis. The struggle was part of the process.

I am afraid that can be us, in ministry at times, as well. I hated to see these women struggle! I wanted to help so badly. If only I could make it easier for them . . . But then, sometimes the struggle is a critical part of the process. Preparing them to fly, once they find freedom. So, I have to be really careful to be discerning—is what I want to do helping or hurting? Empowering or enabling? I have come to learn the answer is not always the same. I pray that I can learn to really hear the Lord and follow the Holy Spirit’s leading. In forming Chrysalis, had I done what was right in my own eyes? Had this been my “bleating sheep?” Had I been stunting their wings . . .?

The “Bigger Thing”

There were many amazing insights in my God conversations that weekend, but I left feeling like he was correcting my course. I had slipped deep into the rut of my past “addiction,” but God was faithful to set my feet back on the right path. I felt confident that I was to do this ministry as a ministry—not a job. That I was to be a friend—not a boss, or a landlord, or a “probation officer.” That it was about relationships—not transactions.

I was reminded of a conversation I had recently had. I had met with a gentleman who could potentially be a donor for the Chrysalis venture. We each shared a little of our past. I was a recovering Pharisee, the Lord having brought me down from my pedestal. He was a recovering drug addict, the Lord having lifted him up from the pit. I went on to tell him of all my dreams for Chrysalis. As I wrapped up my appeal, he appeared thoughtful. With perhaps some reservation, he began to share what was on his heart. “I feel like if you get caught up in the running of this—gesturing to the right, indicating the house, the shop, and the barn we had just been discussing . . . you will miss the bigger thing—gesturing more broadly in the air to the left, indicating the part of our conversation where we had been discussing the need to reach other “Pharisees,” people like me who didn’t know what they didn’t know. There already were housing programs. There already were job opportunities. While they did need those things—and I am so grateful to those called to provide them—what they really needed was Jesus. And Christ’s ambassadors, largely, were sitting in their pews. They needed someone to rouse the ranks. To shake God’s people out of their “comfortable” and rally the troops.

In the midst of all these ponderings and musings, I felt like God was asking me to tell my story—one recovering Pharisee to another. Just as a recovering addict makes a great addiction counselor, perhaps my story would help others who struggled with my form of addiction—judgment, control . . . comfort. After all, I have long felt that our ministry comes from our misery. That which God saves us from is that which God sends us to. I could hear that persistent verse, ringing in my ears, “This is the way; walk in it.”

So, it looked like the Chrysalis chapter was over almost as soon as it had begun. We had houses for about five months and the social enterprise didn’t get much beyond a few rag rugs and some grade-school quality butterfly paintings. There was $1,000 left in our account . . . just enough to pay the accountant to file our taxes, then the coffers would be empty. But it was not for naught. I had learned so much. As a parent, sometimes we let our children go ahead and try something we know isn’t what they should be doing. They simply have to figure it out for themselves. They would learn from their mistakes. The struggle is part of the process. God is a loving parent, too. He let me give it a try. After all, all things work together for good to those who love God . . . even what may look to the world like an absolute failure! So, in the end, it was not for naught. It was God’s way of saying, “This is the way; walk in it.”

“The Lord came and stood there,

calling as at the other times,

“Samuel! Samuel!”

Then Samuel said, “Speak, for

your servant is listening.””

1 Samuel 3:10 NIV

“Whether you turn to the right or

to the left, your ears will hear

a voice behind you, saying,

“This is the way; walk in it.””

Isaiah 30:21 NIV

“You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired

wealth and do not need a thing.’

But you do not realize that

you are wretched, pitiful,

poor, blind and naked.”

Revelation 3:17 NIV

“When Samuel reached him, Saul said,

“The Lord bless you! I have carried out

the Lord’s instructions.” But Samuel

said, “What then is this bleating of

sheep in my ears? What is this

lowing of cattle that I hear?””

1 Samuel 15:13-14 NIV

“I will lead the blind by ways they have

not known, along unfamiliar paths

I will guide them; I will turn the

darkness into light before them and

make the rough places smooth. These

are the things I will do;

I will not forsake them.”

Isaiah 42:16 NIV