Then Lot chose him all the plain of Jordan; and Lot journeyed east: and they separated themselves the one from the other.
Abram dwelled in the land of Canaan, and Lot dwelled in the cities of the plain, and pitched his tent toward Sodom. (Genesis 13: 11-13)
I was going through some journal entries last night from last year. One of the entries that I came across had the scripture above written out and highlighted "and Lot dwelled in the cities of the plain, and pitched his tent toward Sodom." The entry below didn't seem to have anything to do with the scripture, maybe at the time it made perfect sense but last night I was like "what was I on when I highlighted that and wrote this?" I took the advice of a dear friend today and I just immersed myself into Him. The scripture I read last night ("Lot pitched his tent toward Sodom. Toward evil, toward sin") kept creeping into my thoughts as I listened to podcast after podcast of others preach His word today. I read Genesis Chapter 13 as soon as I got home. Lot had been blessed by the Lord as one of Abram's kin but he separated himself from Abram and the rest of the crew and Lot pitched his tent near Sodom, the city of sin and eventually packed up his tent and his family and lived there.
Well, I can tell you exactly were my tent is pitched. Right next to entitlement, next to negativity, jealousy, right next to Lot and I have to say from here Sodom doesn't always look so bad. This sucks, because I am human (#1) and put grief as the cherry on top and I am so vulnerable, so frail, so confused, I fight for my faith. I don't want to be any where near any of these places but someone says the wrong thing and I am there. I see a "blessed" license plate on a brand new Mercedes and I am there. The mom that carries her toddler into the grocery store, worn out and weary I am so jealous of her it stings and I am there. When all these events happen collectively in one day, as they often do, I have gone from pitching my tent close to Sodom to now full blown living in Sodom. Then I fight to get back. I fight to trust Him again, I fight to read and believe the words, the words that I know heal, the words that I vowed to anchor my soul. I have to drag my feet back to the land of Abram and his crew. As I journey pass the tent, I have to pick it up and drag it back with me. Barefoot in the desert I find my way to the blessed land. When I get to the blessed land I have to believe that I am blessed. Blessed beyond what this world can give me and blessed beyond what the world has taken from me. I have to find her in heaven, trust that life is but a breath, and we will see each other again. I have to lay that tent at His feet and believe that His nail pierced hands paid the price for me and His mercy and His grace is all I need and His love never fails even when I do.
I have to believe that the undated, highlighted, don't make a lick of sense, journal entry written between April and May of 2012 was Him leading me to where I am tonight. Another undeserved tender mercy from my Savior.
I may not always stay in the blessed land, I pray I do, but one thing I can say for certain I will always fight for the restoral of my faith ~always~
Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses. (Timothy 6:12)