Entering Arabia

I had first created this blog months ago when everything was still honky-dorky, when I was earning a comfortable income, when certain members of my family still had not gotten sick, and the road ahead seemed clear and easy. With time on my hands (meaning I wasn't working nights and weekends anymore), I thought I'd be able to post something intelligent that would show that, in my own small way, I was finally standing on top of the mountains.

Ha. Fat chance. Life throws its little surprises. I'm about to enter my Arabia.


No, I don't mean the desert kingdom literally (e.g. Saudi Arabia) but something that a pastor kept on hammering months ago when I was still in my comfort zone. She said that sometimes to prepare us for our calling (or destiny, for those who don't believe in a Higher Power), God has to separate us from everything we know, cripple our self-reliance, and remove every security blanket we have. Then we finally have the time to closet with Him and listen to what He has to say to us. More important, we'd have the patience, the willingness, and the openness of heart to consider what He says and obey accordingly.

The pastor called that turning point 'Arabia' - in reference to Paul's seeking his own kind of personal asylum in that ancient city after his blinding encounter with Lord on the road to Damascus. Not sure if the future Apostle spent months or years in Arabia, but one thing was certain, he was alone with God - and he had to unlearn everything he knew, this scholar who was the disciple of the great Gamaliel himself, who could rightfully claim that he was a Hebrew among the Hebrews, an aristocrat among Israel's religious elite.

We're talking about starting from scratch.

And, boy, was I dense. God would repeat that message again over the next few weeks after the initial sermon. An unopened Bible would reveal a random page that referred again to the Damascus experience. Another random note in the Bible devotional "Today God Is First" would talk about defining moments that, yes, would cite Paul and his sojourn in Arabia. Eventually, I did notice and began to ask quietly what would constitute my own personal Arabia and what do I have to do to get there...

One thing the pastor and the devotional didn't add was that before you run to Arabia to find yourself and your place in God's plans, you have to fall off your horse first.

I've fallen off several horses in the past months. A couple of family members getting sick. Another family member losing her source of income. A major job change that led back to a consultancy and several writing assignments that, while paying the bills (for which I am grateful), still only gives me about 3/4 of what I used to get.

Then there are the internal earthquakes. I'll write more of this later on, but let's just say that, after *decades* of friends advising me to stop being overtly responsible for my kin, my Messianic complex crashed. Fatigue settled in and the drive that had been a merciless taskmaster suddenly vanished. All of a sudden, I began to think of myself and my personal happiness before anyone else's.

Then I started to question my own competencies, my gifts, my dreams, and what I am really good at. Again, I'll write about this at a later date, but right now one path that I have been avoiding all my life solely for financial reasons - and the one path that all my close friends say is the one that defines me the most - is the one that is beckoning strongly.

The internal engine of my spirit has slowed down, if not sputtered. I never felt it come to a halt, not this way. Not a decade ago when I left ministry at the age of 30 to start life all over again, not in 1994 when I came to grips with an illness that I thought would rob me of my vitality...no, not like this. Those moments had been dark but I was always fighting. Even when I was sick, resting at home, for example, I'd still take on work-at-home projects because I wanted to be productive. Even when I was quietly envious of my friends who had already reached high positions, I took on every job I could find because I was still fighting.

Not this time. The motor that had been my determination to push myself beyond all limit and succeed in every opportunity given me has stopped. The one thing that made me who I am.

I guess that's the equivalent of falling off my horse.

Which means I'm ready for Arabia. I'm going in - a bit nervous with a lot of questions, but my heart is at peace - and I'm going in.

"Speak, Lord, your servant listens."
Some of what I hear, I may just jot down in this blog.