I awe at those called to grand adventures.The excitement of jetting away to new places, new cultures and new people of all shapes, sizes, colors and backgrounds. The grandness of their mission. The seemingly simple calling to be the hand and feet of Jesus in the most needy of circumstances. I know it’s not that simple. Or that easy. But my mind can rest itself on the comparison of those big lives doing big things to my small life that is indeed simple. And I can wallow in the guilt of not changing a world, or feeling disconnected from a world that needs change. I can beat myself up because I have no title or designated mission or budgeted calling. And land on the assumption that my life is then less valuable, less chosen, less celebrated. And the lie settles in and begins to seep into the cracks of my soul. The lie that those sitting next to me, leaned into me, don’t count or don’t need. The lie that He somehow cheers on those who are sent to far away places, all the while staring back at me on the bench wondering when I’m going to get myself into the game. The lie that I have to go and do to be decided worthy of grace.
And those lies always bring me to the same place on my knees, unable to stand under the weight of who I think He expects me to be, begging to change me from the outside in. Make me great, make me worthy, make what I do matter I beg.
Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup;
you make my lot secure.
The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
surely I have a delightful inheritance.
I will praise the Lord, who counsels me;
even at night my heart instructs me.
I keep my eyes always on the Lord.
With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken.
But God…He sits still beside me. Lifting my chin to see His mercy. Not because I haven’t gone, but that I’ve been chasing the wrong success. He whispers that He is pleased with me. That fighting for stillness and grasping ambition to lead a quiet life turns my face to His and His to mine. And isn’t that what it’s all about anyways? That I would consider everything worthless just to know Him. To be with Him. To sing, or in my sound make a joyful noise to Him. Even if plainly in my living room. He teaches me to open my clenched fist of all the scraps I so tightly hold on to, one finger at a time, so He can fill my hands and my heart with the places He wants to take me. To places I never really considered going – quiet places nobody with ever see or write or speak about, places where my only audience is Him. And to rest there. Be filled there. Be smiled upon there. Because it’s in those places I am reminded that He does in fact send some of His most precious children off to far away places on grand adventures, but that I have the grand gift of Him here, right where I am to show great love to the ones He has put into my path today and to walk in faith daily with the hurting hearts He’s given me to show His love.
Oh Lord, may I be faithful to hold tenderly what You have given me. It’s so much more than I will ever know.