In His Direction
In 2016, I walked into a small, garden-level room with short windows spanning the length of the back wall across from me. The space was empty except for a single church pew under the windows and a worn armless chair. Although sunlight from the small windows filled the room, it still felt like a dark closet in the back corner of a basement, which is precisely where it was situated in this small church in Denver, Colorado. I had never been to this church before. I entered in despair. I felt like my life was hitting rock bottom. There was nothing I could salvage. I couldn’t keep it afloat any longer and the path forward only looked worse. Nothing about being in this room brought me any comfort or hope. In fact, it felt more reflective of the current state of my life; cold, dark, empty, and worn out. I was giving God one last chance to intervene before my life degraded into what I would describe as an old home being swept away in flood waters. Deep in misery, I knelt down next to the pew, ...