There Is a Third Way

For the last little while, one phrase has followed me everywhere.

God keeps His promises.

It came through devotions, the Bible, prayer...the same gentle reassurance over and over again.

God keeps His word.

The strange thing was, I didn't know which promise He was talking about. I've had so many Words in the last few years, I didn't know which one specifically was being referred to. Which breakthrough? Which outcome was being promised? So the words comforted me, but I couldn't quite place them.

Then, slowly, something else began to emerge. Maybe it was not a promise about something happening. But a promise about a way.

We usually think there are only two options.

There is the life we have: It pays the bills. It is sensible. Stable. Responsible. Maybe we've been there for years because we need the money. Maybe because we don't yet have the qualifications to leave. Maybe because it is what everyone expected of us. Maybe because it is simply what we know.

It isn't terrible.

But it isn't alive either.

So we endure it.

Then there is the second way: The beautiful alternative. The dream. The purpose we've imagined. The work that seems to fit our gifts. The business we'd build. The book we'd write. The ministry we'd begin. The place where we imagine finally feeling like ourselves.

It is exciting.

It is frightening.

It feels uncertain.

So we go between surviving our current reality and fantasising about another one.

One life frustrates us.

The other seduces us.

I have realised there is another possibility.

There is a third way.

The third way isn't something I invent. It isn't something I strive for. I don't even think I choose it. It finds me. When it arrives, something extraordinary happens. It feels less like discovering something new and more like remembering someone I have always known. It fits with startling familiarity. Like greeting an old friend I have somehow never met. The third way doesn't demand that I become someone else.

It simply reveals who I have always been.

It gathers together gifts that have quietly existed all along.

Things that have always come naturally.

Things I never thought counted because they felt too effortless.

It is almost like dancing. The dance partner lifts me so gently that I forget my own weight. There is movement and work. There is surrender. Yet somehow there is no striving.

Perhaps this is what Jesus meant when He said, "My yoke is easy and my burden is light." Not because there is no work but because I am finally carrying the work I was created to carry.

The hardest part is probably waiting. The third way cannot be forced. Sometimes waiting means saying no to perfectly good opportunities. It could means declining counterfeit versions of the life that fit but are not yours. Not because they are bad. But because they are not yours!

Waiting has become one of the holiest things I know.

Not passive waiting.

Not sitting on the sofa hoping life happens.

But becoming the sort of person who can recognise the invitation when it comes.

So the big question is what does waiting look like?

It looks like practising the rhythms that already make your soul come alive.

Not performing.

Not hustling.

Not escaping.

Simply becoming more yourself in God.

For one person that may be writing before there is a platform to post to or publishing company asking.

For another, creating beautiful spaces even when there is no one to share them with. 

For someone else, listening deeply to hurting people long before they ever called it counselling.

It may be walking slowly with God each morning. Without a devotional practice or curated playlist.

Cooking your best meals even when there are no guests.

Teaching children stuff that is not in the school curriculum. 

Building businesses that help others even if they need the miracle of investors who believe with you.

Making art for art's sake.

Studying ideas.

Growing gardens.

Praying quietly.

Encouraging strangers.

The point is not the activity. The point is the life that quietly rises inside you while you do it. Not adrenaline or performance or applause.

Joy.

The kind your body recognises before your mind does.

We've become experts at escape.

We think what we need is another holiday.

Another weekend away.

Another glass of wine.

Another shopping trip.

Another episode.

Some more money.

Another distraction.

Sometimes rest is necessary.

But sometimes what we call self-care is simply temporary relief from living outside the life we were made for.

What we actually long for is alignment.

To live from the deepest place where God formed us.

To stop performing versions of ourselves that exhaust us.

To discover the life where our soul finally exhales.

Perhaps this is the promise.

Not that God guarantees every dream we have imagined.

But that He faithfully leads us into the life He imagined first.

His promise is not simply that He gets us somewhere.

It is that He never stops leading.

Perhaps we spend too much of life choosing between frustration and fantasy.

God offers another way.

The third way.

The invitation is not to chase it nor to manufacture it. It cannot be controlled. It can only be received.

So wait.

Practise the effortless rhythms that are already true of you.

Become deeply rooted in the person God is quietly forming.

Trust His covenant more than your timeline.

When the third way comes...and I believe it will...you won't have to force yourself into it. You will recognise it.

Because every fibre of your being will quietly whisper,

"I've been here all along."