Episode 12 — Return

I'm glad you're here.

As we close this first season of Desert Streams, I'd love to leave you with one simple invitation.

When life invites you to run, remember that the One who has never left you is still there.

Together, we'll reflect on the promises of Psalm 23 and Isaiah 43 and discover that perhaps the invitation was never perfection—but simply to turn, again and again, toward the One who has never left.

Thank you for walking with me this season.

Whenever you need to...

you can re...turn.

More episodes, reflections, and information about my counseling practice can be found at desertstreams126.com/podcast. 

You can also follow along on instagram at @jessiekuhn126

Season 1: Learning How to Stay With the One Who Never Leaves.

Transcript

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Welcome back. I'm so glad you're here. Today isn't really a new reflection. More of an invitation to remember. Over the past season, we've been learning how to stay. To stay with ourselves. To stay with our story. To stay with our grief. To stay with our questions. To stay with the one who never leaves. And if you've been listening from the beginning, you may remember where we started. We began by slowing down, by noticing, by becoming honest about where we really are. Then we learned that when we stop running, things can begin to surface. Not necessarily because anything has gone wrong, but because we finally become still enough to notice. Maybe a verse or a song, a memory, or a longing unexpectedly touched. Little reminders that we are deeply known. And then we listened to Jesus' invitation. As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. Maybe the journey has never really been about learning how to stay. But maybe it's been about learning again and again to turn toward the one who never leaves. There are two passages that have stayed with me throughout this season. Not because they give easy answers, but because they keep inviting me back to the same place. The first is Psalm 23. The line that says, even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil. For you are with me. Or even that there's another way around it. But the promise is his presence. You are with me. The other verse is in Isaiah 43. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you. And when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned. Again, the promise isn't escape, but companionship. Not if you pass through the waters, but when. And when you do, I will be with you. As I look back over this season, I realize that these passages have been telling the same story. Not a story about avoiding suffering. Not even one about having enough faith. But a story about presence. However, life will invite you to leave, to strive, to numb, to run, to believe that you're alone. But maybe when it does, instead of trying harder, instead of trying to figure everything out, instead of believing that you've wandered too far, you can simply turn. Like hearing a familiar voice behind you and turning your head to discover he's been there all along. If anxiety begins to tighten its grip, you can turn. If you've forgotten that you are loved, you can turn. Not because you failed, but because this is what we do. We turn again and again and again. A few weeks ago, while preparing for a retreat, I found myself thinking about reservoirs. A reservoir isn't feel filled just once. It's filled over time. It receives.