We set off, my family and I, into the high desert. Unfamiliar territory, it was marked by slot canyons and stark terrain. We were mountain hikers, more accustomed to treading over soft, tree-lined paths than through stony expanses. Trailhead signs warned that heat kills, admonishing all who dared pass to carry two liters of water. Both seemed overzealous in the cool autumn morning—until I remembered: deserts change with the seasons. Spring rains and summer heat would transform this temperate landscape into something searing and tumultuous. New things emerge.

Parched though it is, Utah’s slick rock is not dry and thirsty ground ready to soak up precipitation. It comes with warning signs of its own: Be aware of the weather. In case of heavy rain, seek higher ground.

Sparsely vegetated slopes offer little resistance to the water that courses downhill, surging through canyons and gulches, creating pools, lakes, and rivers along the way. Rainfall rivers can last for days, weeks, or even months. Filling them is a monumental event. Even in dry seasons, you can see where they’ve been and where they will be again.

Twenty-nineteen started out in the usual way, with all the usual things. Late winter brought new things to my two daughters and our family. For one, a minor injury transformed into a painful, chronic nerve condition and, for the other, what looked like a dermatological issue was diagnosed as something far more than skin deep. In the space of a few weeks, a typical year became a trying one and as 2019 neared its close, I whispered that I was ready for it to end. Meaning, I suppose, that I wanted to move on and my hope, my assumption, my expectation, was that a new year would bring new scenery.

You and I know that’s not always how it works.

I’m an outdoor gal. Drawn to scripture that highlights creation because it speaks a language I understand, I look at the natural world and learn more about walking by faith from what I see. Unfortunately though, I’m not just an outdoor gal. I’m an outdoor girl with romantic notions about life. Sometimes, those romantic notions cause me to miss the truth I need to know because I’m busy looking for what I want to see. Maybe you know a little about that.

Consider these words from Isaiah: “Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the dessert.” (Isaiah 43:19 ESV)

Oh, how I’ve loved this—the thought of a new thing springing forth, if only I would open my eyes and pay attention. I’ve envisioned idyllic paths through softly lit wilderness and tree-canopied rivers cradled between the banks. I’ve equated new things with relief. I’ve expected them to provide escape or even rescue. All this because, surely, a new thing will be better than the old.

While this is what I want to see, there’s deeper truth I need to know.

All things begin as something new. Navigating them isn’t necessarily easy. Ways in the wilderness are sometimes difficult to traverse and rivers can be dangerous to ford. Sometimes new things arrive in trying packages, transforming our life’s landscape into something searing and tumultuous.

This was true of my daughters’ illnesses. It has likely been true of a new thing for you.

Just as warnings and admonitions and even techniques help us negotiate inhospitable places, there is a mindset that helps us navigate faithfully the new things that unfold within the landscape of life: Even the trying terrain God leads us though has purpose.

Our new things are simply things. Sometimes they rescue. Often they refine. Whether we see them as good or bad, easy or hard, delightful, disappointing, devastating, or even dangerous, they count among the “all things” God works together for good for those who love him and are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28 ESV) No matter how we label them, when new things arrive in trying packages, they refine us—perfecting and completing us. (James 2:4 ESV)

This isn’t always easy to remember. When friends remind me, sometimes I believe them right away. Often I’m slow, thinking it sounds overzealous. Then I recall the desert, mild and dangerous by turns, and that our new things sometimes unfold in trying terrain.

Our God is always doing new things. Things that refine. Things that rescue. Things that do us good. Even in the most trying terrain.

Trying terrain paves the way to the new things God has purposed for us.

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Meet Natalie:

Natalie Ogbourne is a speaker, teacher, and reluctant hiker who has learned that finding her way in the woods helps her walk by faith in everyday life. A lifelong Iowan with a longstanding fear of cows, she has survived a snowmobile-windshield-to-nose standoff with a half-ton bison, a trip into the backcountry with recreationally unstable fly-fishing guide, and a trek across the edge of a cliff pursued by a bear. For encouragement to navigate the landscape of your life by faith, join her at natalieogbourne.com. You can find her often on Instagram and occasionally on Facebook.

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The Refined Series

Fire refines. First God, breaks our pride into tiny pieces. Then, He melts away our impurities in a crucible of affliction. Every fleck of fleshy fluff rises to the surface and is removed until we reveal His image.

This year, I want to stop fearing the fire and pray:

Lord, refine me through the flame.

For 2018, I asked God to give me a word to guide my year, and He whispered the word  “Refine.”  For 10 months, Bruce and I have been walking through the fire and trying to not resist the refining work He is doing in us.

I am a very slow learner, and recently it occurred to me I should step aside and create more space to listen and learn during this season. I long to sit down for a heart-to-heart chat with a wise friend who will remind me the fire has a grander purpose. Thankfully, I am blessed to know several women who’ve walked through the fire and emerged beautifully refined, and I’ve invited them to share their story here with the Wildfire Faith Community once a month.

God has promised that the fire will not consume us, but transform us.

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 Sign up today as a member of the Wildfire Faith Community and  grab a copy of the Refined Manifesto our Faith Fuel Library.

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 If you are visiting from Natalie’s today,

welcome to my little space on the web!

Here you will find fuel for a wildfire faith to help you

• • LOVE DEEP: Fervently extend God’s kindness and grace to pesky people.
  • PRAY BIG: Go down fighting on your knees with fire in your bones.
  • HOPE FULL: Stay tethered to a confident anticipation that keeps your heart ablaze.
  • STAND STRONG: Rest courageously on God’s promises with red-hot resolve.

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SUBSCRIBE TO START RECEIVING WEEKLY FAITH FUEL IN YOUR INBOX.

YOU’LL GET A FREE COPY OF “4 SUREFIRE WAYS TO IGNITE YOUR FAITH”

and access the practical resources in the Fatih Fuel Library for members.

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Prayer is the best way to persevere through trying terrain and discover the greater purpose God has for you. To help you get started, I’m sharing a copy of My Pray Big Prayer Calendar with you. Join the Wildfire Faith Community and  grab a copy in our Faith Fuel Library. Print out your copy and start each morning inviting God to strengthen your step and breathe fresh wind into your weary spirit.  

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Discovering our purpose as we walk through

trying terrain is difficult work.

We often feel paralyzed by fear, doubt and discouragement. 

I CAN PARTNER WITH YOU TO HELP YOU

CLARIFY THE CALLING GOD UNIQUELY CREATED YOU TO FULFILL.

CHECK OUT MY COACHING SERVICES TO START WORKING ON A PLAN TO

REFINE YOUR PASSION AND PURPOSE.