faith unfaded

I’ve hit a few potholes on my recent travel assignment. Twelve destinations over thirty-four days is sure to include some literal bumps in the road.

But it’s the spiritual potholes I’ve had to guard against the most.

Have you ever straddled the line between not wanting to burn bridges and not caring what comes out of your mouth when you’re mad? I used to live on that fence, inching as close to the line as possible when emotions ran high. But the more peace I carry within, the less conflict entices me.

Still, that holy fire that burns bright within me can flare up in the flesh sometimes. And that is when I find myself struggling with letting silence reign supreme.

I do NOT want to go gentle into that good night…

Yesterday was such a day. On a spirit-filled afternoon where I experienced the majesty of the Ark Encounter, I also fought against rejection, a disappointing moment, and a little righteous indignation.

It started as I passed through a major city I’d wanted to include on my “Christmas Across the Country” journey—but they’d declined to work with me. I’d graciously thanked them at the time, but driving through yesterday brought a fresh wave of rejection. Old me would’ve thrown a passive-aggressive dig in my recap. New me let myself feel the sting without spiraling or imploding.

The next pothole I hit was in the parking lot of the Ark. Right on the edge of the property is a hotel I’d initially reached out to. I’d told them I was doing a story on the Ark Encounter and asked if there was a media rate available. This was a stay I’d have to pay out of pocket, so I’d already explored several options. I was dumbfounded when the manager called with a “media rate” that was higher than the price listed online.

Needless to say, I booked a trusted stay at a Holiday Inn seven miles away instead. While I’d politely thanked them for their time, I was still taken aback when I saw the building yesterday. It wasn’t about the lack of a discount; it was the attempt to take advantage of me. That has roots I’ve been digging up for the last couple of years… and I immediately recognized the origin of my ire.

I fought the urge to drive over and make a video declaring them a den of thieves. Instead, I chose to rest on Exodus 14:14. Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord.

But vengeance for what?
That I got my feelings hurt?
That I didn’t get the deal I wanted?

Sometimes we want God to exact revenge to soothe our ego when it’s precisely our ego that needs refining. In the flesh is no good thing…

And sometimes we want to say the devil came after us, when in reality we just didn’t get our way. The devil didn’t attack me yesterday. I was told no—which I admittedly am not a fan of—and I let the old sting of rejection creep in.

These weren’t major road hazards—just shallow potholes in the grand scheme of things—but they still needed to be filled with God’s grace before becoming sinkholes in my life.

Do you have potholes left unattended? Let grace fill them now, before they deepen.

Do not give the devil a foothold. Ephesians 4:27

Potholes don’t stop a journey—unless you ignore them.