The middle is our proving ground.

It’s where life might hurt, or get tiring, or feel empty.

Our eyes are on later, and we’re hoping that whatever it is that’s weighing us down might just fade away. Our hope is always on what’s better, the relief, the coming through.

Rarely are we simply just ok with the exact spot that we are in.

And when those overflowing moments come, they’re fleeting, if we’re honest with ourselves. It’s a mountain top, deep breath, full contentment feeling. But just as suddenly as it appeared, it fades into the past.

And we’re soon faced with the middle once again.

I’ve found myself here for years, straining for the peace that’s just ahead. Hoping, believing, that it’s not out of reach. That I’m just not there yet. And all the while, there’s a twisting and turning, as I struggle under the weight of the middle.

I’ve found this to be the proving ground. Where what I truly believe rises above anything that’s happening spiritually, emotionally, or physically. It’s here that I’ve been closest to my Maker. Because it’s here that I have the greatest need.

And it’s a quiet reminder to rejoice in Him who is sufficient, no matter what.

Though the fig tree may not blossom, nor fruit be on the vine; though the labor of the olive may fail, and the fields yield no food; though the flock may be cut off from the fold, and there be no herd in the stall - yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will joy in the God of my salvation. Habakkuk 3:17-18