Last night I was journaling, still processing some of the things that happened in the final year of my marriage – and in particular, some of the things I felt to be God speaking to me at the time, and how I had interpreted them.
See at one point, right at the very beginning of the unravelling – the first time I wondered if it was the start of the end of our marriage – I went outside the front of my home, looked up at the stars, and felt like God told me: everything is going to be all right.
I needed that message of hope, and I clung to it. But I interpreted it as your marriage is going to be all right. And in that, I felt like I had permission and endorsement to question a lot of the prior things I’d held to be true about marriage – maybe things are going to shake up but the relationship will be alright. Take some risks. I even wrote a post about how learning the difference between right and wrong isn’t always clear cut. And some of my decisions and choices in that time ended up being ones that led to a lot of hurt – and regret.
And so I was journaling last night, and wondering: how did I get it so wrong? And wondering if my spiritual compass and ability to discern things is still so off base. And I had a verse from Isaiah pop into my mind.
“My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts”, says the Lord.
Isaiah 55
And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.
For just as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so my ways are higher than your ways
and my thoughts higher than your thoughts
But by this point I was tired and didn’t go much deeper. I literally ended the journal entry with “Isaiah 55?” because I felt like there was something there for me to hear, but I didn’t have it in me to sit in that space last night.
I think I was wondering if the way to interpret this was that I was too willing to ignore wisdom from church and the bible and community and do things anyway, and those choices made the breakup worse and more painful than it already had to be. And maybe my take-away should be that I need to be more humble and submit my life choices to God’s ways (not that it’s always obvious! But I was really deconstructing a lot of my framework of wise life choices and willing to be a contrarian and ignore advice that previously felt settled).
So perhaps that reading of “my ways are higher than your ways” is that I need to be humble, and submit, even if I don’t get it, because there’s wisdom there that is deeper than my own reasoning.
And there’s almost certainly some truth there.
But then I came back to it this morning, and opened up Isaiah 55 again. And this time I read it completely differently.
“My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts”, says the Lord.
Isaiah 55
And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.
For just as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so my ways are higher than your ways
and my thoughts higher than your thoughts
Reading this verse 12 hours earlier the focus was on my failure, reading it in the morning, the focus was on God’s goodness – and awe at the idea of thoughts beyond our ability to reason.
When I re-read it, instead of viewing it as a statement about wise life decisions or even morality, I thought about that night out the front of my house: everything is going to be all right.
And that thought was true – and 18 months later – is more true than I could have known. What’s ended up happening was in fact beyond my capacity to imagine from where I was that night. If God had laid it out in all the detail I don’t think I would have even wanted it, or understood how it could be good.
But perhaps there’s things God knew, and those thoughts were higher than my thoughts.
And I feel like with that perspective I can have some compassion for myself too. Yes there were regrettable decisions that led to hurt. And yes – I can definitely grow in maturity and discernment. But there was also a path forward that was so outside my ability to understand, that I was always going to have to be stumbling forward with limited understanding, and relying on trust.
And so this morning I’m grateful for God’s ways, and that from a situation that was so bad that I’d lost the vision of a hopeful future, there is a path forward that has more hope and grace than I could have imagined.
And I’m reminded of how scripture can speak in multiple ways. One day I can read a verse and see my failure, and then the very next day, I can read it and see only God’s surpassing goodness. I do still want to grow in discernment – of wisdom and folly – and also grow in the humility required to follow wisdom from the bible and from the church and wider community, even when I’m questioning it. But I’m glad to be reminded that there’s an overwhelming grace that permeates our lives, and is far beyond anything we can imagine, and far higher than our thoughts.