It’s April 19 and it’s snowing outside. I want spring to be here so badly I could spit. Yet, I looked out my bedroom window a few minutes ago, and actually smiled - broadly. I smiled because I know that winter is about to end. Its demise is surely just around the corner, and that certainty makes me happy.
Even though right now winter is trying to taunt me... It’s trying to tell me that spring is not coming – that winter will never end. But I know it’s wrong. It’s lying. Because winter will end, and spring will come – and it will be soon.
Do you ever look around and see all indications of something contrary to what you believe and know to be true? Maybe you see something opposite of what you want, and there is no evidence of what you are praying for? And does it ever occur to you that evil wants you to think God is not listening? That it wants you to think that the winter of your heart will never end? That spring will never come? It occurred to me this very evening…
My grandparents were faced with circumstances that may have led them to feel like this many times. They felt God calling them to take the good news of Jesus to Africa. But they had many “snowy spring days” to get through before they would arrive and begin ministering. First of all, the church synod they were associated with – Lutheran Brethren – didn’t even have an African mission option. My grandparents’ proposal that the church begin a mission in Africa was denied when first suggested; there was no money to start a mission in another country, and the church already had a mission in China. However, the church leaders agreed to pray about it, and a year later they voted to begin a work in Africa and my grandparents were the first to go.
Their “spring snows” continued, however, as they waited for passage on a ship, and then waited a few years after arriving in Africa, for the Cameroon government to give them permission to begin mission work in that country. And this was all after God called them…after He said yes to their asking, “Is this what you would like us to do?” My grandparents’ lives showed that they trusted God. They were far from perfect, but they stayed the course and waited, prayed, and trusted.
What is faith, if not believing in the unseen? Can’t anyone believe spring will come when it’s sunny and 60 degrees outside? It is a snowy, mid-April evening like this when faith is tested, when faith must be exercised, and when truth must be clung to.
Shortly after I stepped away from the bedroom window I heard a slight noise in that direction and turned to see a robin on my window sill. It perched there a minute and then flew off. In another minute it was back. This time I noticed it had something in its beak and after it flew off again I moved closer and saw the early beginnings of a nest on my sill. The robin was disregarding the snowflakes filling the sky and was building a nest as if spring was imminent. He was not going to be derailed by a long winter...by late snows. He acted like he didn’t even notice. And I took a lesson from him.
I don’t know when spring is coming this year, but I do know it will come. And I don’t know when certain things I’m trusting God for will take shape, but I do believe they will. And by God’s grace I am going to keep trusting, keep building, and will hardly notice the late snows. Spring is imminent.
“And it is impossible to please God without faith. Anyone who wants to come to him must believe that God exists and that he rewards those who sincerely seek him.” Hebrews 11:6 NLT
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Ideas to options
The previous post referenced toilet paper choices, actually as an introduction to these thoughts about selections of much greater significance. Having now visited Cameroon, where my grandparents spent the majority of their lives, I have been thinking about their choice to live and work in that country so far from their homeland. They felt called by God, there is no question, and, I wonder: did the call come out of an idea they had, which they then sought God’s input about?
Thinking about this in terms of my recent trip, I remember back when:
I am noticing that it all started with an idea.
This is most often the case, isn’t it? If a batch of “monster” cookies is going to be enjoyed by my grandkids and me, I’ve got to come up with the idea to bake some cookies. If I’m going to invite a group of friends over for some good conversation and fellowship, I need to first think about inviting them over. And if I want to live a life to bring glory to God, I need to spend some time thinking about ways to do that. I need to consider what ideas are in my heart and mind that I may need to talk with Him about?
After this Africa trip I’m finding some dissatisfaction, even disillusionment with the “menu” options I see around me. These options concern a variety of items – big and small, significant and insignificant – yet they all seem to offer at least one of two things: more comfort and/or less pain.
I better quickly say that I don’t think it’s wrong to be comfortable or to be pain-free. I’m sitting in my comfortable home right now and am very thankful for it. I’m recently over a painful illness and am so grateful to be pain-free again. These are blessings from God. What I am telling myself is that I need to remember that this isn’t my home. This country isn’t even my home. Not even this earth. I’m passing through this place. And it’s so ridiculously easy to get sucked into believing this life is what it’s all about. We need to fight against that, continually.
So I plan to do a little rebelling against the choices around me. At least I’m going to seek to vet them, and not just grab an option because it’s there. I’m going to remind myself that with every option I select, I lose some current or future opportunity to choose. That’s the way options and choices work, isn't it? No matter who we are on this earth – we can’t have it all. Time, money, opportunities, relationships… They all have limits; we must be choosy.
My grandparents’ deviated significantly from the typical life option menu. And it seems it may have started when the idea was first conceived in my Grandpa’s mind. It resulted in a big choice to invest in another place, an everlasting place. I wonder what our lives would look like if we spent more time conceiving and praying about ideas than we did appraising existing menu options. I’m not sure, but I’m hoping to find out.
Thinking about this in terms of my recent trip, I remember back when:
- The trip idea was first conceived
- I thought more about it and wondered
- I prayed and asked God to show me if this trip was His will
- I began exploring
- I waited, and finally…
- I received His confirmation, blessing and answer
I am noticing that it all started with an idea.
This is most often the case, isn’t it? If a batch of “monster” cookies is going to be enjoyed by my grandkids and me, I’ve got to come up with the idea to bake some cookies. If I’m going to invite a group of friends over for some good conversation and fellowship, I need to first think about inviting them over. And if I want to live a life to bring glory to God, I need to spend some time thinking about ways to do that. I need to consider what ideas are in my heart and mind that I may need to talk with Him about?
After this Africa trip I’m finding some dissatisfaction, even disillusionment with the “menu” options I see around me. These options concern a variety of items – big and small, significant and insignificant – yet they all seem to offer at least one of two things: more comfort and/or less pain.
I better quickly say that I don’t think it’s wrong to be comfortable or to be pain-free. I’m sitting in my comfortable home right now and am very thankful for it. I’m recently over a painful illness and am so grateful to be pain-free again. These are blessings from God. What I am telling myself is that I need to remember that this isn’t my home. This country isn’t even my home. Not even this earth. I’m passing through this place. And it’s so ridiculously easy to get sucked into believing this life is what it’s all about. We need to fight against that, continually.
So I plan to do a little rebelling against the choices around me. At least I’m going to seek to vet them, and not just grab an option because it’s there. I’m going to remind myself that with every option I select, I lose some current or future opportunity to choose. That’s the way options and choices work, isn't it? No matter who we are on this earth – we can’t have it all. Time, money, opportunities, relationships… They all have limits; we must be choosy.
My grandparents’ deviated significantly from the typical life option menu. And it seems it may have started when the idea was first conceived in my Grandpa’s mind. It resulted in a big choice to invest in another place, an everlasting place. I wonder what our lives would look like if we spent more time conceiving and praying about ideas than we did appraising existing menu options. I’m not sure, but I’m hoping to find out.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Rationing toilet paper
Here in the U.S. many of us have been blessed with an amazing number of choices. Consider the toilet paper aisle in the grocery store, for example. It has more than a dozen options. Ply, quilted or non-quilted, four-roll or bulk, lotion or non-lotion, and so forth… Well, I brought a roll of TP with me to Africa. Had been informed it was a good thing to have along for stops along the road, etc. As it turns out, I never actually had to use it for its intended purpose – yet, use every square, I did. And every time I ripped one or two squares off the roll, I thought of my dad.
You see my dad was a saver – a fairly extensive saver. Not like those shows on TV where people are almost buried in their stuff, but he had difficulty throwing things away. And he told us that it was due to growing up in Africa, where “you never knew when you might have a need for something.” He and his parents invented recycling, I think. And he was faithful to remind us that they couldn’t simply go to the store and buy things like we do here.
I always thought he had a pretty good excuse for hanging onto things, even though I never admitted that to him. A few times I wanted to remind him (and probably did, although it would have been a disrespectful thing to do) that he lived in America now, and had since he was eight years old.
When I found myself in Africa this year, treasuring each square of TP, for amazing numerous uses, such as: ant killings, small nose wipes, edge of sink cleanings, erasing make-up smudges, coasters, etc. – I knew my dad was having a good laugh from the heights. I could hear him lovingly say, “Now do you get it? Do you see why various odd items seemed so precious to me?”
And I smiled with each square I tore off...seldom more than one square at a time, because I didn’t know how many I would need before the trip was up. This silly thing made me remember and miss my dad. It made me appreciate what daily life out of one’s comfort zone can look like. And how joy can be found in realizing on the last day of a two-week trip that - you still have three squares of TP left!
(For the record, I did see toilet paper for sale at the market... One per package, one brand…)
You see my dad was a saver – a fairly extensive saver. Not like those shows on TV where people are almost buried in their stuff, but he had difficulty throwing things away. And he told us that it was due to growing up in Africa, where “you never knew when you might have a need for something.” He and his parents invented recycling, I think. And he was faithful to remind us that they couldn’t simply go to the store and buy things like we do here.
I always thought he had a pretty good excuse for hanging onto things, even though I never admitted that to him. A few times I wanted to remind him (and probably did, although it would have been a disrespectful thing to do) that he lived in America now, and had since he was eight years old.
When I found myself in Africa this year, treasuring each square of TP, for amazing numerous uses, such as: ant killings, small nose wipes, edge of sink cleanings, erasing make-up smudges, coasters, etc. – I knew my dad was having a good laugh from the heights. I could hear him lovingly say, “Now do you get it? Do you see why various odd items seemed so precious to me?”
And I smiled with each square I tore off...seldom more than one square at a time, because I didn’t know how many I would need before the trip was up. This silly thing made me remember and miss my dad. It made me appreciate what daily life out of one’s comfort zone can look like. And how joy can be found in realizing on the last day of a two-week trip that - you still have three squares of TP left!
(For the record, I did see toilet paper for sale at the market... One per package, one brand…)
Saturday, March 26, 2011
The crazy truth
It was my last night in Cameroon and I was enjoying dinner under the stars, and listening to a lot of conversation in French... At one point late in the meal, our host, whose father worked with my Grandpa, recalled when my father visited Cameroon 20 years ago. This man told me, through his son, who was translating for me into English: “When your dad, Harold, visited, he told my dad as they parted, ‘I will most likely not see you again here, but I’ll see you next time in heaven!'”
Both his dad and mine have now died… In fact, we figured out that recent February night that they died within a year of each other – about seven years ago. And as we sat there, it occurred to us that at this very moment they might be enjoying fellowship together in heaven, just as my dad had said! We smiled and chuckled at this fun realization, and then our host said, “Who’s going to come back and tell us if it’s so?” He had a big smile on his face, as he waited for the translation to reach me. When it did, I smiled too, and there was some laughter around the table and I remember hoping that there was not a measure of disbelief in this comment.
I’ve thought about this more since that evening, and here’s where my thoughts have gone:
Yes, I think there is a craziness to what we believe. And couldn’t one say there is a craziness to all things worthwhile? Think of love…sex…human birth, as examples. When you first grasped the truth of these things, wasn’t there a wonder and craziness to them? Is it any surprise, then, that the most beautiful, saving truth that exists, should also have a craziness about it? If it didn’t, wouldn’t it be all the more ordinary, far less beautiful, and – constrained by mortal life?
To those of us who believe and have chosen to place our trust in this belief, we can smile at the craziness. We can even acknowledge this aspect as an expression of joy in, rather than a fear of, offending our Savior. Jesus came back from the dead and told us this is truth. His Spirit lives in us, and verifies it too.
I trust I will see you in heaven, my Cameroon host, if not before!
Both his dad and mine have now died… In fact, we figured out that recent February night that they died within a year of each other – about seven years ago. And as we sat there, it occurred to us that at this very moment they might be enjoying fellowship together in heaven, just as my dad had said! We smiled and chuckled at this fun realization, and then our host said, “Who’s going to come back and tell us if it’s so?” He had a big smile on his face, as he waited for the translation to reach me. When it did, I smiled too, and there was some laughter around the table and I remember hoping that there was not a measure of disbelief in this comment.
I’ve thought about this more since that evening, and here’s where my thoughts have gone:
1) I hated to say good-bye to my new family in Cameroon; it was especially hard not knowing if I’ll ever see them again. I feel very connected to them, even a little protective of them, and especially regarding their relationship with Christ. Perhaps because my grandparents first brought the Good News to them, there seems to be a burden on my heart that the truth not be lost or diluted all these years later. I don’t know that it is being lost or diluted, but I desperately don’t want it to be.
Therefore, my dad’s good-bye with this man’s dad resonates with me... If I don’t get to see my Cameroon family again on this earth, I trust with all my heart that I will get to see them in heaven. That we will all safely arrive, and have fellowship together, there…
2) Is it really true that my Cameroon host and I don’t know with certainty that our respective dads are in heaven? He is right, after all, there is no one who can come back and tell us. Part of me wants to absolutely prove to the world that trusting in Jesus is the only way to live and die. It is true, I believe, and there should be no doubt about it. I even remember feeling a teeny bit of frustration that this new brother would cast that doubtful comment out into the open, even in fun. I mean, why voice that possibility – even jokingly – if you earnestly believe?
Well, I’m fairly certain my Cameroon friend does believe. Moreover, he’s likely confident enough in his belief to acknowledge unashamedly that eternal life through Jesus requires faith. It does look like foolishness to many. And, it’s the very foolishness that becomes our salvation. Life through Christ involves a heart change that can only happen by the grace of God. If it were any other way – if it required my logical and perfect obedience to a set of laws – I would not be saved from the slavery to sin I was even born with. I would not have the amazing hope that I have.
Yes, I think there is a craziness to what we believe. And couldn’t one say there is a craziness to all things worthwhile? Think of love…sex…human birth, as examples. When you first grasped the truth of these things, wasn’t there a wonder and craziness to them? Is it any surprise, then, that the most beautiful, saving truth that exists, should also have a craziness about it? If it didn’t, wouldn’t it be all the more ordinary, far less beautiful, and – constrained by mortal life?
To those of us who believe and have chosen to place our trust in this belief, we can smile at the craziness. We can even acknowledge this aspect as an expression of joy in, rather than a fear of, offending our Savior. Jesus came back from the dead and told us this is truth. His Spirit lives in us, and verifies it too.
I trust I will see you in heaven, my Cameroon host, if not before!
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Julie's no-fear week
When my friend Julie shared my “No fear week” blog with her mom and sister, her mom said, “You should write a response about your week, Julie.” So I invited her to be a special guest blog author. Here’s what she sent, regarding her week – the week she and I decided to have freedom from fear.
Ann is a dear friend who challenges me in my faith and walk with the Lord. I actually feel a spiritual high as we talk about the Lord and how we can grow deeper in our relationship with Him. Yes, the past week has been quite a test for both of us. However, Ann and I believe the Lord prepared us for what He knew was coming by engaging us in this challenge – by enlightening our minds with this idea of choosing not to fear for one week. Of course, we both plan on continuing the challenge, but we both also need to take this one day at a time... We struggle with fear and anxiety – not to a level where either of us would consider medication, but to a more common level, a level I hear many people describe when sharing their own struggles.
So, here’s our freedom from fear week challenge: As soon as we feel fearful or are worried about something, we will stop, recite a verse like, "God has not given us a spirit of fear but of power, love and a sound mind." And then we will pray and apologize to our Heavenly Father for not trusting, and ask Him to help us trust. Finally, we will make a conscious, decisive decision not to fear!
My week started with an early morning call from my mother that my father had "escaped" again. He has Alzheimer's and we have been waiting to move him into a new memory care facility when it opens April 1st. I jumped in the car and took off on the search. Thankfully, he was found a couple of hours later. Then at 11:15 p.m. that same day my mother called me and asked me to come over and help her take care of him. I politely asked my guests to leave the party I was hosting for them, gathered my items for the night and headed over. My mother and I finally landed in bed at 2:00 a.m.
So I started the search for a memory care facility that could take my father right away. God directed me to a niece of a good friend who is a director of nursing for a memory care facility. She not only found a wonderful place for him, she also found nursing care for the nights before he could be admitted. She even took one of those nights herself! My mother has been staying with me most of the time. After 62 years of marriage she’s trying to adjust to living alone.
The Lord has provided at every turn. .. My father was a Gideon, passing out Bibles to students at schools for many years. He also placed many small banks in restaurants for the orphans ministered to by World Vision. As one of my dearest friends says, "The Lord takes good care of His own, especially when they have ministered for Him during their lives."
Along with the trauma in my family, my business has been especially difficult over the past week. I have been a realtor and real estate broker for more than 21 years, and have enjoyed successful years, but have also had challenging times. This past week has been one of those challenging times with various transactions appearing to work out...then evaporating into thin air.
So, during this week I decided it was time let go of the fear associated with my business and to sell my business. I sold it to Jesus Christ. Now I work for Him. He decides who we work with and who we don't. He determines the path of the transactions and the outcome. I felt quite a burden lifted after "selling" Christ the business. After all, He owns it anyway. (By the way, He is a great boss!)
Needless to say, our respective no-fear weeks were not the easiest of weeks... But then, who of us have been promised easy weeks? Knowing we’ve got a God who knows all, and loves perfectly – and commands us not to fear – is certainly a comfort for the troubles we experience in this life. Thanks for sharing your week’s story, Julie! I’m thankful for your friendship and for your encouragement in my walk with the Lord.
Ann is a dear friend who challenges me in my faith and walk with the Lord. I actually feel a spiritual high as we talk about the Lord and how we can grow deeper in our relationship with Him. Yes, the past week has been quite a test for both of us. However, Ann and I believe the Lord prepared us for what He knew was coming by engaging us in this challenge – by enlightening our minds with this idea of choosing not to fear for one week. Of course, we both plan on continuing the challenge, but we both also need to take this one day at a time... We struggle with fear and anxiety – not to a level where either of us would consider medication, but to a more common level, a level I hear many people describe when sharing their own struggles.
So, here’s our freedom from fear week challenge: As soon as we feel fearful or are worried about something, we will stop, recite a verse like, "God has not given us a spirit of fear but of power, love and a sound mind." And then we will pray and apologize to our Heavenly Father for not trusting, and ask Him to help us trust. Finally, we will make a conscious, decisive decision not to fear!
My week started with an early morning call from my mother that my father had "escaped" again. He has Alzheimer's and we have been waiting to move him into a new memory care facility when it opens April 1st. I jumped in the car and took off on the search. Thankfully, he was found a couple of hours later. Then at 11:15 p.m. that same day my mother called me and asked me to come over and help her take care of him. I politely asked my guests to leave the party I was hosting for them, gathered my items for the night and headed over. My mother and I finally landed in bed at 2:00 a.m.
So I started the search for a memory care facility that could take my father right away. God directed me to a niece of a good friend who is a director of nursing for a memory care facility. She not only found a wonderful place for him, she also found nursing care for the nights before he could be admitted. She even took one of those nights herself! My mother has been staying with me most of the time. After 62 years of marriage she’s trying to adjust to living alone.
The Lord has provided at every turn. .. My father was a Gideon, passing out Bibles to students at schools for many years. He also placed many small banks in restaurants for the orphans ministered to by World Vision. As one of my dearest friends says, "The Lord takes good care of His own, especially when they have ministered for Him during their lives."
Along with the trauma in my family, my business has been especially difficult over the past week. I have been a realtor and real estate broker for more than 21 years, and have enjoyed successful years, but have also had challenging times. This past week has been one of those challenging times with various transactions appearing to work out...then evaporating into thin air.
So, during this week I decided it was time let go of the fear associated with my business and to sell my business. I sold it to Jesus Christ. Now I work for Him. He decides who we work with and who we don't. He determines the path of the transactions and the outcome. I felt quite a burden lifted after "selling" Christ the business. After all, He owns it anyway. (By the way, He is a great boss!)
Needless to say, our respective no-fear weeks were not the easiest of weeks... But then, who of us have been promised easy weeks? Knowing we’ve got a God who knows all, and loves perfectly – and commands us not to fear – is certainly a comfort for the troubles we experience in this life. Thanks for sharing your week’s story, Julie! I’m thankful for your friendship and for your encouragement in my walk with the Lord.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
No fear week
Last Wednesday evening I was driving home from a Bible study when my phone rang. My friend Julie from Minneapolis was calling to catch up a bit, and after discussing a few things together she said, “Ann, what if we decide tonight, that for the next week we will commit to not have fear about anything? We could pick a verse from the Bible to help us fight off fear any time it threatens us, and we will hold each other accountable and pray for each other. Wouldn’t it be great to experience a week without any fear?”
Well, how could this not be a good thing to try? “Sure, I’ll commit to that with you!” We picked a verse and talked about how we would battle any spirit of fear that tried to enter us – no matter how great or small – and then I said with a little laugh, “This isn’t going to be like praying for patience is it?” And, “Whoops – I’m off to a bad start if I’m already afraid of praying against fear.” We laughed a little, then prayed, as we kicked off the week. (We noted that a certain variety of fear protects us and we wouldn’t fight that fear... )
So that was last Wednesday - one week ago. By Thursday night, the cold sores I thought I had on Wednesday had become a diagnosed case of shingles. My battle with fear was about it begin… Now many people get shingles – even many young people, I’ve heard. And what do most people say about this illness? “It’s so painful!” Nevertheless, it was not the impending pain that most threatened my no-fear pact. It was the fact that the outbreak was attacking my face, which meant it could possibly charge right up and into my eye. (I should say, while people’s eyes apparently usually recover from shingles with assistance from modern medicine, one does not want a shingle's lesion on one’s eyeball, and in the worst cases, it can cause blindness.) But wait…I had only two lesions so far and they were both near my lips, not anywhere near my eyes.
But by Friday afternoon I had a lesion as close to my eye as it could possibly be without entering it. It was on the skin just above my lower eyelashes. It seemed like an evil taunt: “Now will you be afraid?” While my loving God seemed to be reassuring me: “Remember your prayer! It wasn’t happenstance. I want you to know that you should not be afraid through this. Even if the worst happens and it goes into your eye, I will be with you and take care of you. I don’t want you to fear.”
Many people were praying for my eye’s protection and for my recovery… Yet, by Saturday morning, my eyeball was tingling and I was crying on the phone to my sister. By Saturday night my upper eyelid was swollen and my eye was in pain. By Sunday night I had a lot of eye pain. But all through, I could still see… The eye doctor and I had been in contact, and he was optimistic since my vision did not seem to be affected and I couldn’t see a lesion on my eyeball when I looked in the mirror.
So here I am at the end of my week without fear. My eye and face still hurt; I’m still on pain medication. But I have a checkup with the doc tomorrow and I think I’ll get a good report.
I confess that I didn’t make it perfectly through the week without fear… But while many things are getting back to normal, I never want to go back to a normal where fear is okay.
In a few minutes I’m going to call Julie and ask about her week...
Well, how could this not be a good thing to try? “Sure, I’ll commit to that with you!” We picked a verse and talked about how we would battle any spirit of fear that tried to enter us – no matter how great or small – and then I said with a little laugh, “This isn’t going to be like praying for patience is it?” And, “Whoops – I’m off to a bad start if I’m already afraid of praying against fear.” We laughed a little, then prayed, as we kicked off the week. (We noted that a certain variety of fear protects us and we wouldn’t fight that fear... )
So that was last Wednesday - one week ago. By Thursday night, the cold sores I thought I had on Wednesday had become a diagnosed case of shingles. My battle with fear was about it begin… Now many people get shingles – even many young people, I’ve heard. And what do most people say about this illness? “It’s so painful!” Nevertheless, it was not the impending pain that most threatened my no-fear pact. It was the fact that the outbreak was attacking my face, which meant it could possibly charge right up and into my eye. (I should say, while people’s eyes apparently usually recover from shingles with assistance from modern medicine, one does not want a shingle's lesion on one’s eyeball, and in the worst cases, it can cause blindness.) But wait…I had only two lesions so far and they were both near my lips, not anywhere near my eyes.
But by Friday afternoon I had a lesion as close to my eye as it could possibly be without entering it. It was on the skin just above my lower eyelashes. It seemed like an evil taunt: “Now will you be afraid?” While my loving God seemed to be reassuring me: “Remember your prayer! It wasn’t happenstance. I want you to know that you should not be afraid through this. Even if the worst happens and it goes into your eye, I will be with you and take care of you. I don’t want you to fear.”
Many people were praying for my eye’s protection and for my recovery… Yet, by Saturday morning, my eyeball was tingling and I was crying on the phone to my sister. By Saturday night my upper eyelid was swollen and my eye was in pain. By Sunday night I had a lot of eye pain. But all through, I could still see… The eye doctor and I had been in contact, and he was optimistic since my vision did not seem to be affected and I couldn’t see a lesion on my eyeball when I looked in the mirror.
So here I am at the end of my week without fear. My eye and face still hurt; I’m still on pain medication. But I have a checkup with the doc tomorrow and I think I’ll get a good report.
I confess that I didn’t make it perfectly through the week without fear… But while many things are getting back to normal, I never want to go back to a normal where fear is okay.
In a few minutes I’m going to call Julie and ask about her week...
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Trusting isn't passive
For much of 2010 the recurring question I felt God asking me was: “What do you want?” As I’ve answered Him more and more about this, it seems that particular question has faded, as answered questions often do. But there’s a new question that I now seem to be faced with, and fairly often: “Do you trust me?”
As I wrestled with the specifics of what I would like the story of my life to be about, it seemed I was in an active role: the activity of figuring out what I want. I took that action seriously. It seemed the ball was in my court. It seemed God was waiting, even as He was actively helping me figure out the answer to that question.
Now my answer has taken form and I’ve been speaking with God about it. And now I’ve noticed things have turned a bit… The focus has gone from my action, to God’s action. Or should I say, to God’s seeming inaction.
Now, I’m not necessarily expecting Him to drop circumstances and action from heaven. But I kind of am, for He can do anything that pleases Him. And, I wouldn’t mind at all if a curtain was pulled back revealing a whole new path that was exactly in sync with what He and I have been discussing. Yet, I realize I’m in a partnership with my God. I’m to act, for sure, but in His timing, and as He leads and opens doors.
Right now I’m being asked to do something that is at the core of what I believe: trust Him. Not fret. Not pull all-nighters (like I can even do them anymore) to make my destiny happen according to my plan. Not stress endlessly about how this may play out, or about “what if it doesn’t play out?” But, rather: trust Him.
God wants me to trust and deserves my trust. As I talk with Him each day, and level with Him about what I’m struggling with, the Holy Spirit encourages me and reminds me of the many reasons to trust Him. Reasons threaded all through the Bible…reasons found in my grandparents’ stories…and reasons from my own life’s history.
I don’t know if what I want will come to be in the way I think it might in this life. But I do think it will come to be. My main activity regarding this right now, however, is to trust Him. It can sound and feel so passive, but believe me when I say it’s not.
As I wrestled with the specifics of what I would like the story of my life to be about, it seemed I was in an active role: the activity of figuring out what I want. I took that action seriously. It seemed the ball was in my court. It seemed God was waiting, even as He was actively helping me figure out the answer to that question.
Now my answer has taken form and I’ve been speaking with God about it. And now I’ve noticed things have turned a bit… The focus has gone from my action, to God’s action. Or should I say, to God’s seeming inaction.
Now, I’m not necessarily expecting Him to drop circumstances and action from heaven. But I kind of am, for He can do anything that pleases Him. And, I wouldn’t mind at all if a curtain was pulled back revealing a whole new path that was exactly in sync with what He and I have been discussing. Yet, I realize I’m in a partnership with my God. I’m to act, for sure, but in His timing, and as He leads and opens doors.
Right now I’m being asked to do something that is at the core of what I believe: trust Him. Not fret. Not pull all-nighters (like I can even do them anymore) to make my destiny happen according to my plan. Not stress endlessly about how this may play out, or about “what if it doesn’t play out?” But, rather: trust Him.
God wants me to trust and deserves my trust. As I talk with Him each day, and level with Him about what I’m struggling with, the Holy Spirit encourages me and reminds me of the many reasons to trust Him. Reasons threaded all through the Bible…reasons found in my grandparents’ stories…and reasons from my own life’s history.
I don’t know if what I want will come to be in the way I think it might in this life. But I do think it will come to be. My main activity regarding this right now, however, is to trust Him. It can sound and feel so passive, but believe me when I say it’s not.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
