Two Steps at a Time

I want to expand on my thoughts about our plight to stay in country. Having already explained the process (in a post below), shared how I know that God is in control and committed our lives to Him because we know He is in charge, I feel I must paint a picture for you about the steps that I am taking. Actually the steps come slowly and the way is hard to see.

Remembering several years ago when our family lived a city about eight hours outside of Moscow, I can vividly recount the spiritual battles that we sometimes endured while serving there. When I was a teenager, I had a pastor that took the time to teach our youth group about spiritual warfare. Maybe I had even experienced it to some degree during those years, but not to this magnitude. Of course, while at a learning center for missionaries in the States, we had a few seminars about it before we came to the field. I had heard stories about other missionaries experiencing such a thing, but many of those missionaries live and work with tribal communities where witchcraft is practiced. Definite battles and fights with the enemy are apparent in those types of surroundings.

Our area is different, yet somewhat the same. There was a constant, dark shadow that lingered around us. There were no professing witch doctors or such, but the majority of the people were so wrapped up in superstition and pagan practice that false worship and mystical belief led them on the path to Hell. The general population accepted that Jesus Christ was born, but they had no personal relationship with Him. Many trusted the reading of the stars, the lighting of a candle or the kissing of an icon in prayer to save or direct them.

It was as if I were a soldier on my knees crawling through a maze of smoke, not knowing where to go. The bullets and darts were flying past— circumstances, pressures, stresses, sicknesses, etc. I knew that I was going to get hit. And, I did. But, I had to continue moving forward regardless of the wound and unpreventable scar. Unfortunately I could not see the captain to know where to go. Oh, but I heard His voice. If I listened very carefully, I would hear a sound, a faint whisper: “Come this way.” I proceeded in that direction. Then there was no sound, that is, His voice. I could only hear the sounds of battle. Out of nowhere I heard His voice, the great captain that He is, again and knew where to retreat. Then finally I found my way to calm ground.

Today the battle raging is quite different, yet similar. Praise the Lord that my vision is clearer. I can see the captain. Maybe over the years, I have learned how not to get lost in the smoke. I have learned better how to keep my eyes on Him and do all I can to not get hit; though, sometimes I understand that things are beyond our control. However, He does give us wisdom if we ask for it. Oh, how I pray for wisdom!

I see Him. He is crouched down. I must do the same. It seems that I do not hear as much noise encircling me. Thankfully I am better trained, because I have allowed myself to be taught. I know I have more to learn, because I cannot see like He can. I trust. He took a step. I take a step. I clearly see He moved again. I move again. The pace is slow. The way is safe. I just do not know where I am going. But, I know this: He does! Therefore, I move one step at a time. Today I sense that we are moving one step at a time, maybe two. I will be honest. It is not easy being unable to fully see, but I press forward because I trust in the One who leads.

-The Chosen Path, journal entry 2008, L. Burch