The Preparation of My Soul {The Incubation of Hope}

In preparation for a 12 hour retreat with the larger ISF community-

I shall not be blown from my purpose 

by the strong winds of conflict, 

for I am fettered 

to a nest of Hope

by the strong branches of Love.

This is the preparation of my soul.

This is the incubation of hope.

The Lord has prepared a great level of fresh angst for me to explore during my upcoming 12 hour retreat. For the past few weeks much has surfaced in my heart and mind that needs the healing work of Christ- I am powerless to change the things which have arisen from the depths within me. Ugly things which are vices and rooted in sin. Things which I cannot pray away, although I often try.
In prayer now I am given a memory which is astoundingly poignant for what I am experiencing in this place- I recall a time when I was probably about 10 years old and my family visited a carnival that had come into town right against our backyard. 

For some reason I don’t remember, I decided to ride a sideways ferris wheel- it spun you around and around like a spinning top, doing both small circles individually while gyrating in one larger circle simultaneously. Nobody gave me sound advice to avoid this bad decision, which was bad because I am not a risk taker, am prone to carsickness and struggle with fear and anxiety. But for some evasive reason I decided to get on. The moment I was buckled in I had doubts, and the moment it started I felt the complete horror of utter helplessness in a situation that attacked my psychology. 

I remember screaming as loud as I could to stop the ride, but nobody heard me. Then my body went limp and I experienced utter helplessness akin to physical pain as I suffered the worst anxiety of my life for 3 minutes. When it was over I remember being totally traumatized, but I put a smile on my face because I did not want to upset my family with my needs and insecurities. So I trudged on through the rest of the carnival as if nothing at all had just happened that was even the slightest bit upsetting, while processing internally the absolute horror of that whirlwind of anxiety that was my own disturbing secret. I silently chastized myself about how stupid I was to get on that ride and avowed to never attempt anything that was even remotely similar, ever again. That experience was filed away as an unacceptable mistake and the trauma was buried quietly down into my deep. I learned to hide and I learned to protect myself- both of which are in opposition to love.

            In a similar way, I am on this ride right now- in fact, I am just getting off of it for the hundredth time and vowing never to get back on it again. I will hide! I will protect myself! But each time I vow to keep my feet firmly planted on solid ground, I eventually find myself climbing back in and getting strapped into a three minute ride that will leave me dazed and anxious for weeks to come. The repetition of this pattern is wearing on my soul in astonishing ways as I grow older and develop deeper awareness of my internal struggles and responses to the trials of life. I find myself screaming at God “make it stop, make it stop!!!” only to realize that nothing I do can stop the momentum of the trial I find myself barreling through. Eventually the only option is to become submissive and allow waves of anxiety and fear to consume my physical and mental being until the ride is over, then get off, put a smile on my face, and process the trauma internally and alone.

But what of my soul?

 While my psychology screams for someone to please turn off the trauma, what is going on inside my soul? In this time of prayer, I am reminded of an eagle’s nest that is not far from my house, where two bald eagles take turns sitting on their fragile eggs. There are any number of discomforts and trials that they face as they sit- wind, crows, cold, heat, fatigue, hunger, poky sticks and achy legs to name a few. But they just sit and sit and sit. The eggs incubate in the heat of their stillness, and their submissiveness is key to this mundane process of growth. When incredibly high winds threaten to destroy their nest, they just keep sitting. When the eggs have been unhatched for too long and are over a week late, they just keep sitting. Even if the eggs are sterile and never hatch at all, they will keep sitting until the dud eggs finally crumble from decay. As my daughter observed, “they never lose hope!” And this is true. Their identity is not in raising babies or building successful nests- 

their idenity is not in being a successful family member. 

If one nest is destroyed or the eggs are dead, they will simply try again. And again. And again. They do this by sitting. And waiting. They sit and wait without fear or doubt about their purpose, which is to be an eagle and to be willing to incubate whatever God wills to give them.

My Lord invites me into the stillness of contemplation.

And this repetitious pattern of sitting and waiting reflects in contrast against the vicious cycle of anxiety and helplessness of that relational carnival ride upon which I find myself periodically and unwittingly strapped. If perhaps my vacillating state of mind is in stark opposition to the constant incubation of my soul, if perhaps my idenity is not found in being a successful family member, then perhaps....perhaps my Lord is showing me that all is well. While my mind vacillates between solid ground and the propulsion of yet another round of harsh relational rebuke, my Lord invites me to sit and incubate a hope that will prepare me for His purposes-

I sit and wait through the discomfort of trials
because my identity is in Christ.

Even as the cold wind blows hard from the direction of relational warfare, my soul will not be shaken. No matter how many times my being is to be strapped to that scary three-minute ride, no matter how many weeks my psychology must suffer to recover from it, my soul continues to sit and sit and sit in solidarity and confidence on a nest of love in a tree of life. Despite the angst of my mind, my soul can be grounded in this one thing- even if I fail as a successful family member, my identity is in Christ. I am still an eagle and can fly to my calling and sit though all manner of trials as my Lord incubates His will beneath my wings. The eagle that is my soul will never be stopped from hoping, because that eagle is identified in the calling to be an eagle, no matter what may come. 

This is the reassurance I receive from my Lord in this time of prayer- I am not identified by my relational standing in a human family. I am identified only in Christ. Eagles are not eagles because they are successful members of a family- they are eagles because they are eagles, because that is what God made them to be. Whether they fly or sit, raise babies or fail to do so, they do not lose the hope of being eagles. Whatever comes, they are eagles. They can sit idly upon a nest, even one with dud eggs, and be completely at ease and please their Lord in their faithfulness to incubate whatever He has ordained to give them. They incubate hope.

My mind may vacillate, but my soul is steadfast in its anchoring to my Lord. As darkness rises, light rises to meet it, and the eagle keeps watch from its faithful perch where transformation incubates silently and hidden beneath the wings that were granted to it by Grace. This is the slow preparation of my soul for union with Christ, which is the calling for all of His children.

All is well, my soul. All is well.

This is the preparation of my soul.

This is the incubation of hope.

Steady as she goes.
Amen.