What happens after I’ve begun, and chipped away day after day to make persistent progress? What happens when I reach the goal I set?

Sometimes it feels like the trees of the discouraging forest part, and I enter the cozy valley, where the cottage that I’ve craved for miles sits nestled in a glen that sings of joy and satisfaction. I can finally sit and celebrate in the company of others, feasting on good food next to a glowing fireplace. The sweat is washed away; I exchange my worn, dirty travel wear for fresh clothes.

I breathe more easily. I feel my heart settle a little deeper inside me, proud of a job well done and grateful to God for the opportunity. My head feels free to relax and reflect, reveling in God’s goodness to me and counting the blessing of the Provider as night unfurls overhead.

Without a doubt, there can be a blessed peace in arriving.

I appreciate it a little more because, upon giving it some thought, I understand that arrival doesn’t always feel this nice.

Sometimes I arrive to a clearing without much sign of accomplishment. The ground lies barren and dusty, echoing as I shout for a sign of life. I followed the trail markers; I practiced all the advice; I gave myself completely to the work. Somehow, even after a perfectly executed venture, I didn’t expect what I received. This wasn’t what I thought I wanted.

Without a doubt, I prefer when arriving feels like coming home.

But what if it isn’t that way? Why isn’t it as sweet as the advertisement promised?

After all, I’ve arrived. Haven’t I?

Of the precious victories I’ve attained, some of the most meaningful were the ones that rang almost hollow. When I arrived and the view was different, or the result satisfied less, I did more praying and wondering than I’d ever have done after a perfect arrival. I was forced to reevaluate my priorities. Did I believe that arriving would make me whole? Did I secretly hope to justify my existence by the end of it all?

I try to remember that arrival has unique value in various settings. Sometimes it explicitly rewards good work and is a gracious form of completion. At other times it redirects my heart, showing me that truth and fulfilment come not from the goals I set, but from the God who works in and with me along the way.

Oh yes, I’ve arrived. But the more important element is that, by God’s grace, I am better than when I began.

What arrivals have you celebrated? Which ones yielded a different result than you thought? If you’ve appreciated this approach to Arriving, come back next week to consider when we have to reroute the journey…

 

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