I had an insightful (and tearful) conversation with my friend, Brittany, yesterday afternoon. I shared with her how I feel stuck...like what I had planned for and looked forward to has fallen apart...like I'm stalling and waiting for something, and I have no idea what that might be.

This is what my dear friend so gently pointed out to me: God has asked me to take some big risks in my life, and many times, those risks have required movement. I planned and worked hard and chose to be obedient by actively following God's leading. But God has now called me to take a totally different risk...a risk to be still.

Yesterday morning, I woke up and thought, 'What now? What do I do with my time? What's next?' I felt like I was at a "blind corner," as my friend Jeni puts it...like my failed plans and shattered dreams have left nothing but quiet, empty space.

And this is the risk before me; I have to stay here for a while and let God work. I have to reside in this empty space. There's no call to action...just to be...and to be quiet. That's a big risk because it gives God the stage in my life...His voice can be loud and clear...and what He says, I might not want to hear. He might lead me to places that are unpredictable. This refining work might really hurt!

But maybe, just maybe, in this empty space, I will find more than I could have even imagined...more than the "happiness" I had pictured...more than all I had planned...more than surface-level Christianity and Sunday school answers. Maybe I'll understand that God just might intend for the twists and turns of life to make me more holy than happy...that He always provides, but that His provision might not always make sense to me. Maybe I'll even come to terms with the harsh reality that losing Zachary has changed me more than raising him ever would have. Maybe I'll figure out that there's something bigger...that God uses our lives, including our brokenness to orchestrate a beautiful symphony, even if we can't always hear it. And maybe at the depth of this empty space, I will be enveloped in God's healing mercies.

This unscheduled time is okay. It's temporary...and, quite possibly, a gift. And in this empty space, I can wait expectantly for God's voice...His instruction...His comfort...His peace...His healing. And I can truly learn to believe that God's purposes for me are good..better than I can comprehend, even if life hurts sometimes!

Maybe, as I risk staying in this quiet, empty space, I'll find Him.