Dearest,

I hope your heart is burning fiercely with joy, and if not, I hope this letter, my first to you, serves as the tinder that fires joy up within you. I’d hate to start on a heavy note, but I want to be honest – fall was an incredibly hard season for me. Frankly, I had been hurting for a few years, and my pain had always led to doubt, but I always found my way back home. This fall though, my doubt gave way to resentment. My desperate prayers over the years for a breakthrough hadn’t seem to catch the attention of the one who promised to hear me when I call. Hence, a few times this fall I wept. The sobs erupted from pits within me I didn’t know existed, and it shocked me the depth that pain can sometimes reside unknown and dormant. I know I am not alone, because I see my pain, born from broken dreams and promises, lost love and seemingly stalled career, mirrored in the eyes of my loved ones, friends and acquaintances. We pray and work hard, but our dreams seem to remain out of reach. My response was to throw pitiful and self-sabotaging tantrums, and I was on the verge of declaring that faith and God wasn’t for me.

Then one morning in November after a sleepless night, I woke up and “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight,” was on my heart. And as I meditated on it, a few things became clear. I had to keep moving, and I couldn’t thrive without trusting God. The very thing I needed was what I was about to let go of.

You see for a long time, I believed obedience and surrender meant things would work out eventually. It was easy to appreciate God when I got what I wanted, and when I didn’t, I not only resented him, I was also disappointed in him, his timeline and his plan of execution. I realized I couldn’t truly make room for him, because I didn’t trust him to take care of me or provide for me. Consequently, I held onto my dreams and couldn’t truly invest in his dreams. Even when God and I shared the same dreams, I didn’t trust his plan of execution and timeline. It became apparent to me as I laid in bed that morning that not trusting God meant I couldn’t see or fully experience what he has for me. That morning I decided trusting God meant completely trusting him and his plans.

I want you to know and believe that God is for you too, and Christ resides in the places where your pain runs deep. You can trust him, and everything you are going through will serve a purpose. There is beauty in the midst of our most painful and vulnerable moments. Let’s breathe together! My hope is that you will sink your toes into the warmth of faith, granted it may tarry, but it will surely come to pass.

I plan to write to you again soon, but in the meantime, I’d love to hear your heart.

Until next time,

AdeOla for Rooted Woman

PS: Beloved, You are Loved Immensely.