Constant reevaluation

The rapid rolling of the seasons brings a constant call for reevaluation-- at every juncture, may I choose You. At every crossroads, may I follow You. Every time I pack up boxes and sort through belongings, dubbing some worthy to keep and some worthless, may I leave behind a little more of me and carry forward You, more purified in my understanding. You, less diluted by all the extra. You, a little clearer and closer and dearer to my heart than ever before. You are all that is worth keeping, all that is worth carrying, all that is worth clinging to from here into forever.

Only one life,
'Twill soon be past;
Only what's done
For Christ will last.

The best place to be

"We do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon You."
-Jehoshaphat and the people of Judah, in 2 Chronicles 20:12

The people of Judah face a great army coming to invade and take possession of their land. They do not have the forces to defend themselves or time to come up with a solution, and so they stand unified before the Lord, fasting and pleading with Him as they wait on His guidance.

Do they know that they are in the best possible place? That their weakness is their strength, for God's power is made manifest in their weakness?

When we come to times of crossroads and crisis, I pray that our response will be the same. We do not know what to do, Lord, but our eyes are upon You.

Abandon

Abandon. Surrender. Taking up your cross.

These are not once-and-for-all decisions. With every new day and each new situation, we decide again whether we will cling to control or relinquish it into the hands of God. My soul belongs to God, but will I give this day, this choice, this worry over to Him?

The gift of uncertainty

"My part is to receive whatever He gives. Guidance for a decision that need not be final until next Wednesday may require one small move or commitment today. I accept that and act on it without haggling with God because He has not yet granted me all the information I'm itching for. Perhaps patience is His gift of bread for today, or quietness, or the gift of uncertainty, that I may rest in His love, confident that when the time is ripe, the guidance will be clear."
-Elisabeth Elliot in God's Guidance

The gift of uncertainty? I'll be honest, I almost chuckled to myself upon reading that part of the paragraph. But the words that follow confirm that it is, or can be, a gift-- "that I may rest in His love, confident that when the time is ripe, the guidance will be clear." Uncertainty is a gift because it disallows self-sufficiency and forces us to wait on the Lord and to actively trust in Him. I say actively trust to distinguish between this kind of trust and another: the everyday, passive trust where we say we trust the Lord, and maybe we do, but we feel we've got a pretty good hold on the present circumstances and the immediate future. Trust, in that sort of environment, is on the back burner. It's there to fall back on, but it's not terribly relevant at the moment.

When given the "gift of uncertainty," though, trust becomes active. God may not give us tangible steps to take or leading in one way or another. It may be that all we are able to do is to trust Him, and trust becomes the action-- every minute of every day, committing our future into His hands and trusting. Taking worries captive and exchanging them for trust. Letting go of the fallback plan and choosing trust as our only plan. It makes me uncomfortable just to think about it. But when we choose discomfort for Christ's sake instead of the immediate comfort the world has to offer, we are given the opportunity to know God's comfort. I trust it will be worth it.