change.

One thing I know about writing is that I never try to force the process. I believe that is the essential reason as to why I never update consistently. (oops ;) ) I am allowed that, am I not?

I feel that forcing myself to write upon certain topics or coming up with some kind of consistent check and balance on my life through writing produces a fake, forced, rushed product. I truly feel that the tunes of my heart and the stories of my life are best left to stay under wraps until I, God, or some other divine appointment inspires me to share the ideas that toggle around this little brain of mine. :)

With that said, the events and stories that I share are never products of flashy, look-at-me attention, but rather, humbling lessons that I have learned and coped with that have impacted the core of my being.

If you, oh random few, have kept up with my "intriguing" blog writing, you will have known the struggles I have experienced over the past few years. Deep, personal, life changing issues that have ultimately change who I am. Don't we all have those moments?

Just like my writing, sometimes the lesson to the circumstances waits as well. The perfect timing in teaching in sometimes the most important tool to ensure the lesson is taught and more importantly learned.

 

 West Texas, has been no secret, is one of my favorite places on earth. I believe because the place is such a symbol of hope in my life and a place of healing for me. The place is truly dear to my soul. It will forever be a part of who I am.

Every since I went to West Texas in 2010, I felt as though something about the place was unfinished or incomplete to me. My heart was lost there and broken when we drove seeing those mountains in the distance. And, every since then, my heart has longed for that cowboy hat shaped mountain! 

Knowing I am meant for that place, as I mentioned earlier, dear reader, I finally have had the opportunity to go back. Maybe that is why the chance has never opened up for me to go before--because i wasn't ready to receive the lesson.

To be honest with you, the last three or four years of my life I have struggled to hear God's voice clearly. West Texas represented one of the only times during that period that I could distinctly know his voice. I was desperate for the voice again.

There is always this rock pile we like to climb when we go there. It's not huge, about 800 feet, I believe. From the top, you can see for miles. Being up there gives one a sense of completeness and peace in their soul. An indescribable feeling as though nothing can destroy you there. A peace with God that surpasses all knowledge and wisdom.

It was there on top of that mountain, in 2010, when my world was shattered that I hear God's voice almost as tangible as I touch this computer "Whitney, I have brought you up this mountain. What makes you think I won't bring you through it?' You would think that would suffice my longing and desires for peace in this situation would it not?

I knew this was where God spoke to me last time. I so desperately wanted to hear that voice again I forced myself to climb the rock pile as fast as I could. I got to the top. The beautiful, indescribable top. and nothing. Elated at the sight, yet disappointed at no voice, we started our climb down.

No, on top of rock pile was not where God spoke to me to teach me the lesson he has so patiently waiting until I was ready. The treacherous climb down was where my attention was halted.

While on the way down, matt and I took the more difficult, dangerous, life threatening route. Without knowing of course.   When I tell you there were gaps in the rocks where I could not see the bottom, I am not exaggerating. There was 20 foot jumps down to get to the next rock. Cactus everywhere. I even saw a snake coiled inside one of the rocks. At one point, Matt had to crawl underneath a boulder above a dark rock gap where I could not see the bottom and I, too, had to make that same dangerous crawl through the tiny space. Dear reader, I wish I would have photographed this scary climb down. I wish there was another word besides scary because it was petrifying. But, we made it. Matt riped his pants. I scuffed up my hands and knees. I was shaking scared. Matt was laughing ready to go again, but it was there, just when I thought that there was no voice to show me a new light--He spoke.

In that still, small, strong, confident, concise, clear, voice. "Whitney, just because you are coming out of the mountain does not mean you will not have pain. No, you will have that much more because you are letting go piece by piece. It does not mean that it will be an easy ride. Sometimes coming down the mountain is just as bad as going up it."

And so, reality hits me as fast as you could imagine. So long had I been focused on the problem, I had not focused on my response. 

I read somewhere I cannot remember that the only thing we can control in a situation is not the situation itself but your reaction to the situation. No, it is not under my control, but my response IS! 

I can say that peace has overwhelmed my soul. The lesson in the making was worth the time it took to learn it. Am I still healing? yes. I will forever be healing, but can I react positively? By all means. 

More importantly, for the first time in forever, I feel peace. I feel happiness. I can feel God again.

Ah, change.

I feel free again.

 Matt & Me :)

I told you he split his pants. :)