Pencil Marks on the Wall

I've spent a fair amount of time in counseling.  So much time that I sometimes list it as a hobby.  

(As a side note: I'm also a counseling evangelist of sorts.  One year I referred so many people to my favorite counselor she sent me a Christmas gift.   It was a plant.  I killed it--requiring more counseling.  She's brilliant!)

But I digress. 

My point is that I have an innate hunger to grow.  Its something God placed inside me when he formed me and its a part of how my story continues to unfold.  

My first experiences of counseling were dramatic.  Big breakthroughs, seismic internal shifts, and addicting 'aha's' characterized that first season.  The transformation was so evident that my physical appearance morphed.   The photo snapped as I graduated from my eating disorder treatment program documented a starkly different young woman than the 'before' picture taken just six weeks earlier. Nothing about my body was different but my face was lit up, my eyes were no longer vacant, I emanated hope.  

But there have been more seasons of slow growth.  A seed  buried deep in the soil, mysteriously, stealthily becoming something new.  Taking its own sweet time before it reveals a small shoot.  Then more time as it lengthens and broadens and flowers.  Painfully slow.  
Photo Credit: Jason Samfield

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Do I look taller to you?

I know I'm growing.  At least I think I'm growing.  But sometimes its hard to quantify or articulate.  How does one measure 'more faith' or 'less anger?'  Especially when its been a "long obedience in the same direction".  

So, last week, when I had a distinct 'before' and 'after' moment I engaged in a little celebration.  And now, I'm going to share it with you.  

                               Photo credit: wwworks

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Prepare to be underwhelmed.  

I love a good makeover (I'm taping The Biggest Loser as I write this!), but the most important spiritual transformations occur internally, over time, through consistent disciplines, in the context of community, and the power of the Holy Spirit.  They don't make front page headlines and are rarely blog-worthy.  But they are the stuff the spiritual journey is made of.  It's the evidence of the continuing work of the gospel in my life and some days that encouragement will go a long ways.  So here is my little piece of mundane transformation:

1. On January 16, I read Isaiah 43:1-7. As I reflected on the passage there was nothing that stood out to me.   It did not connect to my heart and I moved on to meditate on a different passage.  
   
2. On January 20, God broke down some of the walls I had been building to protect myself from pain.  (see my earlier blog) 
3. On January 22, I again read Isaiah 43:1-7 and I wept.  I could now read these words --"because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you"--and hear God, my Father speak them to me.  I could 'feel' him loving me.  He had opened up space in my heart for me to experience (not just intellectualize) his love for me.  I am changed.  

See.  Nothing to write home about.  But I believe there is someone else out there who needs to be encouraged in their slow journey.  Who needs to be reminded that these are the biggest miracles--the changing of a heart.  And there will be other days in my journey that I'll need this reminder as well.  And, now, I'll know where to find it--filed under 'Precious'.