Thursday, August 23, 2018


“He who began a good work in you will carry it to completion.” ~ Philippians 1:6
Hurricanes and lava flows have something in common: limbo - literally the calm before a looming disaster.  Time for preparation, time for fear … and time for reflection.
For me (Elikapeka, Hawaiian name meaning Promise of God), it’s that space between insight and oblivion; when smoky gray becomes the brief color of one’s life.
I’ve experienced both the beginning and end of a massive volcanic eruption.  It’s a space where there are more questions than answers.
I watched helplessly as creeping rivers of molten rock slowly wiped out my entire neighborhood.  Our home burned to ash in less than 45 minutes and joined the lava flow with all but a few keepsakes from our past.  We moved into a Friend’s video rental store in nearby Pahoa town.
Limbo has defined our lives for the past few months; a seemingly stagnant space of uncertainty.  We’re anxious to move into a flowing, more vibrant period, but it rarely comes in the timeframe we want or expect.
Then came news of another potentially devastating storm.
The satellite images look so peaceful; a perfect swirl of white no more threatening than cream stirred into black coffee.  I pray Hurricane Lane doesn’t come our way; that it’ll leave the Big Island alone, but it has to go somewhere.
Last time, the hurricane came at night when the wind was as sympathetic as a tsunami; as forgiving as a drought.  Wanting it to stop was like pleading with a bullet.
But the key to forward movement is to embrace the limbo dance.  Balancing from such an awkward position prompts me to gaze skyward to the Lord for support, guidance and victory through it all.  He knows just how low I can go and still get back up.
His grace is sufficient during this transition.  We can accelerate or slow down the transition process to the extent that we relax and trust that “He has begun good work in us and will finish it.”
So here I sit in limbo, confident that I’ll have the power for our necessities when the trees sever our power lines, listening to the rhythmic patter of the pelting rain, and recalling the gorgeous sunset last evening before the storm.  Limbo’s invitation invites me to surrender to its timing, trust what’s unfolding, and wait for His healing calm.
Soon we’ll look for a new home and start again.
God’s Word explodes with answers to every problem, concern, and need we have.  Like Elikapeka, you’ll receive strength to conquer life’s limbo situations with His help.  He wants for us a fullness of life, not some shadowy half-way point stuck forever en route, through an abundance of mercy.
“Lord, thank You for being the God of the impossible.  You can do anything.  Help me to conquer the limbo dance by trusting in Your ability and not my own.  Teach me to see difficulties in my life from Your perspective, Amen.”  ~ Elikapeka