Not seeing is believing

What do we do when it makes no sense? When we don't see what God is doing, can't understand His ways? When we find ourselves wondering if He is really working all things for our good as He promised?

What do we do when we give and give and the results are not what we were expecting? When the sacrifice seems pointless? When it seems all the work was for nothing?

We give thanks. (I'm learning a lot from Ann Voskamp.)

I can't see the eternal results of our efforts, but there are plenty of temporal ones:
* The kids got to witness our faith in action. Our family served and sacrificed together.
* B and I grew closer through this. We are more deeply connected than we ever have been.
* We realized we could do something that a year ago seemed impossible. 
* We touched a few lives for a few days, and maybe they will remember. Maybe our offered love will be seeds sown in fertile hearts.

I will thank God for all we learned and experienced. For using us in a small but significant way. For helping us to become more open and willing to give. For knowing the details so I don't have to. For promising that all things WILL work together for good--and I don't have to see or understand, only rest in trust.

Giving thanks reminds me of His faithfulness. It pulls my mind and heart upward, opens my eyes to Him anew.

Then I remember I only need to abide. He does the rest.

Into the Hard

"Then the King will say . . . 'Come, you blessed of My Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: for I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in; I was naked and you clothed Me; I was sick and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me . . . inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me'" (Mt. 25:34-36, 40).

And does it not follow that whatever we deny one of the least of these, we deny to Him? If we say no to a need He places before us because it is too hard, too scary, too big, requiring too much sacrifice, what are we really saying?

That the God who gave it all for us, the God who receives us with open arms, the God who promises us all the riches of His kingdom, is not enough?

I have spent too much of my life saying no. I do not want to stand before Him one day full of regret for those I turned away from His kingdom. I want to plunge into the hard so I can see what my God will do. I want to open my arms and my heart to receive all He has for me. I want my kingdom to be there, not here. And someday I want to hear Him say,

"Well done, good and faithful servant; you were faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your Lord" (Mt. 25:21).

 

Open hands

Woke up to the heaviness of anxiety, exhaustion, and fear. My Bible fell open on this passage:

“Do not fear;

. . . let not your hands be weak.

The Lord your God in your midst,

The Mighty One, will save;

He will rejoice over you with gladness,

He will quiet you in His love,

He will rejoice over you with singing.” (Zeph. 3:16-17)

I think I often want the fear rather than the peace. I want to be in control. I want to be allowed to feel sorry for myself, to wallow in poor me thoughts. 

But how can I believe God and wallow in fear at the same time? How can I listen to Him singing over me while clutching the dirty rags of faithlessness?

He does all the work. He comes, He saves, He rejoices. He sings. He quiets. He only wants me to do one thing:

Do not fear.

When I fear my hands become weak. Hands that should be serving Him are instead clenched in anxious fists or rubbing themselves in worry. 

Opening my hands requires letting go. 

If I truly believe He is big enough for these circumstances that overwhelm me, I should be lifting strong hands in praise, reaching out in service. I can only do so when my gaze is on Him and not myself.

Listen to His song of love for you today instead of to your fears. Will you open your hands to Him?