Monday, November 3, 2014

Grace for the Type A

I believe that one of God’s greatest desires for our life is for peace and contentment and rest.

I believe this because it’s clearly spoken in the Bible.

And I should clarify, that it’s not a promise that things will be easy or “fit.”

It’s a promise that, if you rely on God, He will never leave you nor forsake you.

That even in the difficulty, even in the pain, even in the waiting, that there is good here; because God is here.

This just does NOT come easy to me.

I am always, always “onto” to the next thing in my life.

The next chapter.

The next horizon.

I learn very quickly, and because of that, I am constantly seeking and searching.

It is one of my greatest battles with this World.

Do you ever “know” (“little k”)a theological principle, but don’t really get it until it’s spoken to you in just a certain way, at just the right time, that it finally (really)resonates with you?  
That happened to me last week.

I “know” that I am to live in the present. 

I “know” that I am to serve in whatever I am doing.

That I am to fix my eyes on Him, and that whatever mundane task, whether stocking chips at work or whether wiping noses at home, that I am to serve Him.

Even when, no, especially when it’s unnoticed.  

This gentleman came into the shop last week. 

He was a missionary in South America for thirty years.

I absolutely love it when I am able to pass a few minutes of my day sharing conversation about deep theological principles, global outreach, etc.

But, let’s be honest, most of my day is typing and emails and following remedial tasks (sure, at a larger level, but this isn’t really rocket science).

At the end of the conversation, and I cannot remember exactly what was said, but he said, “Bloom where you’re planted.”

This is exactly what I needed to hear.

For some reason I always internally interpreted “serve where you are” as “You’re here. Might as well try. Maybe something good will happen.”

But this put a whole new spin on it.

I have been planted.

Not casually tossed.

Not accidentally happened.

But purposefully, and intentionally, planted.

Right where I am.

At my job. With my husband. With my children.


Perfectly. Without error.

May I ever grow more rooted in where the Lord has chosen to plant me.

May I never forget that wings are prophecy; but that roots are heritage.

May I never grow weary of saying “yes” to God and blooming

For which plant would bloom better: the plant accidentally tossed by seed into a random spot of the garden, or the one carefully tended to and set on the windowsill in just the right light, with just the right water, and just the right soil. 

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