Think of a moment in time, a dot, a pivot. You put a stake in the ground, marking the place you have come to thus far. You look back and you see all the rocks and pits and even chasms you crossed. And here you are, now, at the end of the journey, a period at the end of the long, long sentence you have been speaking. It was hard, and hazardous, and you think that now, NOW, you can catch your breath before you set your tent, you make the tabernacle where the Lord will dwell with you forever.
But it is not a period and not an end and not a final place. It is a pause and a long view of the past and the present, a comma before you continue on to the next part of the sentence, the clauses and phrases and expansions of meaning, the branching into other tongues and other meanings. The journey still lies before you, but you can look at your place, right now, and say “Thus far the LORD has helped us.”
I was thinking about this last night, and this morning when I woke up. I have been working, hard (to my mind, at least!) for ten years on diving into my own racism and my own complicity, into my own paths and even into my own participation in healing and conciliation. There was a dot, a pivot, even a stake in the ground ten years ago, and at that time I thought the remainder of the journey would be simple and even easy.
But it was not. I have had ten years of screw-ups and false promises (all mine) and good intent and terrible impacts. I have spoken when I should have been silent, and stayed silent when it was my place to protest in righteous anger. I have disappointed my friends, again and again, and lied and said words I could not, would not, hold to. I have committed every sin and broken every trust.
Still. I may not have moved all that much in ten years, but I can say that I have moved. And now on to the next part of the journey where I will speak the next words in the sentence, until the next Ebenezer. It is all I know how to do.
If you are walking along this path, then all blessings to you for your place and your journey. There will be more books and more times of insight, people and events and relationships. You will grow and learn and make terrible mistakes. I can’t offer you any false words that it won’t be hard. It will be hard. Trust me on this.
But, you will move.