New Life

Ally loved the smell of salt air. She burrowed her hands deeper into the pockets of her puffer vest. It was colder this year than it had been in seasons past as she walked the familiar path along the rocky beach. She shivered as she thought about the sharp winds that would be blowing in just a few short months. Winter. How many had she endured in this life of hers? Many. Some icier and more agonizing than she’d care to admit. How do people get through this stuff?

Her mind drifted to a darker place, turning to reflections on the winters her heart had weathered over the years—loneliness, isolation, unkind words, torment. She was stuck in patterns of self-criticism like a stick stuck in cement. She had learned ways to hate herself and others through every misfortune that had come her way. She’d become a master at repeating lies to herself—lies so much easier to believe than anything positive others tried to tell her.

Nah, those people were delusional. Out of touch with the way things really were—spewing compliments, trying to get her to reframe her thinking. What good would that do? There was no hope for a better life. No way to climb out of this hole she had dug for herself. When someone was this far down in a pit, void of light, what was the point of listening to people who were topside? What supposed truth could they possibly offer that she hadn’t already heard?

She’d literally heard it all—and didn’t believe any of it to be true. She’d worn this coat of suffering so long that it felt like a second skin. But that was how she’d made it this far: the barrier it provided between her and the outside world. She’d rather wear this scratchy old thing than be exposed to that superficial spring people always said was coming.

That one lady—what had she said? There was this old book she reads, full of ancient stories. What else had she said? She prays? She talks to a person she can’t see and asks for things that could never really happen? How could something that old have anything new to say? How could praying for something she knew was only a cruel joke, filled with false hope, change anything in her everyday life? No, Ally was content to walk through winter after winter on this familiar craggy path. That sweet salt air brought enough solace. She’d be just fine.

Just then, her foot landed on a spot that took away her stability. She stumbled, and falling forward, her hands went out. She noticed how cracked they’d become. In those split seconds she considered just how unpleasant those spiky shards would feel as she kept falling closer and closer to where they’d meet her hands—face-to-face with the beach. One minute she was walking along in the gloom of her reverie; the next, eating sand.

Of course! This is what happens to her. Life is out to get you! It loves to throw you curveballs, take away your sure footing, and throw you headlong into a challenge that’s too big to navigate. Everything is too big. Too hard. Too alone. Ughhhhh, how can I keep going like this? Ally thought, just as her face bounced off the wet surface of the shoreline.

But then something surprising happened. A figure showed up out of nowhere. Seriously—where did he come from? He stooped over, extended a hand, and helped her up. Ally looked straight into the eyes of a person whose gaze shone brighter than anyone she’d ever met. What could possibly be generating this light? When the person spoke, his voice sounded like rushing water—water that wanted to fill all the dry places in her soul, quenching a thirst she didn’t even know was there.

What was this he spoke of—something called new life? What’s that? A way to live that defies everything the world tries to stuff down your throat? This sounded backward, upside down, impossible. No, she couldn’t possibly give in to this new way of thinking. A new life? No! This old one was just fine. It fit great—comfortable, familiar, safe.

But this person, this new friend, wouldn’t take no for an answer. He insisted there was more—something deeper than she’d ever known. An awakening. A beginning again. How? He said it started with just a step. Just one step? Follow him from this road she’d walked so long? Could I really do that? Maybe she could. For the first time, she toyed with the idea of trying this new thing. She used to think stepping off this familiar path of pain would be her undoing—that she’d be duped into believing something foolish. She had always felt she had everything to lose and nothing to gain by believing there was a different way.

This person certainly spoke differently. He walked differently. The lightness about him was unmistakable. He told her of a broken but healed way to live—not a perfectly plastic, fake life, but a real one. He spoke of hard times, but of hope in the midst of them. He spoke of unseen challenges, but also of a grit that came from trusting in something more beautiful and real than the ocean that stretched out before her.

Yes. She was starting to think this way was worth trying. Just one step, you say? Will you hold my hand as we walk? Of course, he assured her.

Ok. Let’s do this.

Ally brushed herself off, looked up at the horizon, and started a fresh pace.

See I am doing a new thing? Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. 

Isaiah 43:19