living in placement

The air is quiet -- short of the snoring of my co-worker, which isn't bothering me tonight for some odd reason. I'm satisfied that I have caught up on my administrative work, and am left to pray without interruption.

We had a team meeting today, and the majority of our residents are at a crossroads. While I have seen this behavior before (though never by such a consensus), I am amazed how much they are going out of their way NOT to leave our facility. We were told that this is somewhat a testament to our work with the residents -- that they feel so comfortable, but placement is intended to be a place of transition. Problems arise for the girls whenever they love the placement better than the idea of a real home. The more they resist leaving, the harder the stay.

This had me thinking: what if I do the same thing in my spiritual life? I think we become cozy in our "placements." God may direct us through phases of trial and recovery -- we toil, we heal, and we feel functional again. And as long as our conditions do not remind us of why we are being treated, we feel good about our functionality.

Like with my residents, everything can be progressing during a season of recovery, but we can still be scared to death of what lies ahead. We fear confronting our past vices, whether it be the man who is frightened of persuing a new career, the woman who resists a new romance, or the couple that refuses to commit to another church. We find ways to cope with our placement, and convince ourselves that this is as good as it gets.

However, the success of our season of recovery can often become the greatest threat to our comfort. For example, a man can check into rehab and get himself clean. His sobriety is encouraged and nurtured by people who care. But inevitably, the measures that the man takes in rehab are only to prepare him for a greater struggle. How will he respond on the outside when faced with the triggers associated with his addiction? He can re-enter the world with every other area of his life back in order, but he will never truly know the blessing of victory until he has stood face-to-face with his former self and made the better choice.

We love to feel like we have it all together. But if we convince ourselves that we can live a better life by avoiding the source of our fears, we are deceived. Often, our intimacy with God feels most obvious in our season of recovery. But He still intends for us to get up and walk, because this ultimately brings Him glory and allows us the blessing of the restoration. And why would God restore us, if He did not also intend for our pain to be redeemed for His good purpose?

This past season could be considered my third "relapse" in my nine year struggle with abandonment. I know that I am quickly being restored back to a place of functionality, such that nobody would know that there is a problem. I could become a proud source of wisdom to others, or be an expert in my field. But the part of me that God desires to redeem would continue to lie dormant and afraid. I have to be willing to leave my comfort behind if I am to pursue His desires again.