Growing Pains

I would wake up in the middle of the night tossing and turning and crying in the darkness, desperately searching for an escape from the pain.  A few moments later, my mom would walk into my room and come sit next to me on my bed.

Growing pains.  

My 9 year old mind had no capacity to understand why I was hurting, the futuristic benefits of this pain, or that I would survive.  I was certain that, at the very least, both my legs were going to fall off.  It just plain hurt.  And I wanted it to go away.  Now.

Night after night I would make a blanket bed on the floor next to my parents' bed so I wouldn't have to suffer alone.  My dad would sit on the floor at my feet and tirelessly massage my calves while my mom's tender arm would dangle over the edge of the bed holding my hand or playing with my hair until sleep triumphed over the pain.

In the same way as physical growing pains, spiritual growing pains often come unannounced, in the middle of the night, when you're least expecting them. God's been growing me in areas that haven't been stretched before and it hurts. 

Some things never change.

I still hate pain.  I still don't want to suffer alone.  And while I know better than to think my legs will fall off, sometimes in the recesses of my mind I silently wonder if I'll get through the growing pains with my heart fully intact.  I fear pieces of me breaking off or smoldering desires getting snuffed out in the process.   My 9 year old mind has matured enough to appreciate that growth is good and I long for the outcome.  I desire to be purged of the yuck that still harbors in dark corners of my soul.  But it doesn't take the hurt out of the growth or change the desire to get it over with quickly.  

Frustration looms when I'm dreaming about where I'm going and waking up where I am.

Yes, sometimes with hopeful hearts and wide eyes we can so vividly see where we're going that it feels like we're already standing right there in the middle of glory, only to stumble and scrape up our knees and realize we're still journeying.

And it hurts.  

There's pain.  And then there's growing pains.

Even the good, growing kind of pains hurt. 

But it doesn't have to just hurt.  If we lay our broken and wounded bodies under the fountain of His unceasing love, and let grace seep in like salve to our aching souls, our pain can produce growth.  And growing pains, though still unsettling, are valuable and vital to living wholly.  

A good friend reminded me of this today as I was sharing with her that I can see glimpses of where God's taking me and I so long to be there already.  I was/am frustrated that no amount of wanting, praying, reading, or processing was ushering in the final product.  I want to wrap growing pains up in a cute little package and tie a pretty little bow on it with a note that reads, "Look world, the new and improved polished up version of me!"  Instead, there's been a lot of ugly crying, wrestling in my spirit, over-analyzing, and restless nights.  

She encouraged me to sit and rest.  

Sit in the uncomfortableness of the already-not-yet.  Sit in the hurt.  Sit in the questions.  Sit in the fear. 

He'll sit with you.

He knows where you're going and He will take you there.

Rest in the restlessness. 

Psalm 37:3-5, 7a

"Trust in the Lord and do good...

                        Trust that He knows the way and let go of the steering wheel.  

...Dwell in the land and enjoy safe pasture...

                        Make a blanket bed beside His throne and dwell. 

...Take delight in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart...

                        Let Him tend to the sore and achy places of your soul.  Let Him hold                                 your hand and awaken the stifled and abandoned desires of your heart. 

...Commit your way to the Lord...

                        Determine to stay the course, despite how painful or long the journey.

...Trust in Him and He will do this...

                        Believe that He will accomplish in you what He has set out to do.  He is                          faithful.

...Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for Him."

                          Rest and wait.

God doesn't ignore our painful cries in the night.  And He doesn't wait for us to fix ourselves up.  Despite His holiness, He gets up in the middle of the night to answer our cries.  He bids us come.  He stays by our side throughout our suffering.  He stoops down to comfort us and tend to our messy wounds and to delight in us, his beloved children.  

Are you hurting?  Do you want your pain to be growing pains?  Are you weary of trying to package up your pain in a pretty little package to present to the world?  Are you trying to find a detour to a pain-free route?  Are you desperate for rest?  

Me too. 

He bids us come.

"Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest."  Mark 6:31