Hello again!
This has been a long time coming hasn’t it? Well, my excuses
are pretty solid. This past year has been pretty insane and the insanity does
not seem to be halting anytime soon. So, I am going to take this couple of
minutes to re-enter the blog-o-sphere just because writing has always been a
wonderful outlet for me to calm the chaos.
In case you’re interested, school is going well. After the
fall I will have 1 more class to complete and then we can pomp and circumstance
all over place! Praise God!
More important than any academic achievement, my family has
grown! February 3 we welcomed our sweet little Baby Bear into the picture [see
below]
Here’s a fun fact. The above picture was taken the evening
we came home from the hospital. In it, you will notice I am wearing glasses.
They are not mine. They in fact belong to my husband, the Engineer. What’s
important to note is that our prescriptions are very different, with his being significantly
stronger than my own. Anyway, that was over 7 months ago here’s the Baby Bear
(and her very proud older sisters) now:
More than all of my “achievements” these kids bring me the
greatest joy. And that got me thinking... "What does God think of me?"
For those of you who don’t know me, let me tell you: I believe I have
a Jonah-complex. I knew what I was supposed to do a long time ago, God did not cryptically
call me into ministry. In fact, He was pretty blatant. I fully knew what I was purposed for doing but I was not having it. Like Jonah, I tried run away and the real
world swallowed me up and spit me out (ironically, I did end up in VA Beach).
I thought that coming back to God with my tail between my legs asking for forgiveness was going to be one of the hardest parts of this journey. So after that exercise in humility and making good on my word by going to college, choosing a seminary would be a cinch, right? Wrong! Here's why:
I have been agonizing
the last few months about what to do at the end of my undergraduate studies. Per my calling, I
know that grad school is a must but the location is the issue. Right now there are
several places that I am interested in and all of them require us (the "Fam") to
relocate. Having strayed from God before, I am now focused on doing His exact plan. But He hasn't whispered in my ear "Mary, go to [insert seminary]." I've often found myself crying out to God for help like a 3 year old.
Then the other day it hit me… I am God's kid. And if my kids bring me such happiness just because
they’re my kids, how does God view me? All of the “agonizing” that has taken
place circles around one central theme: I want to do what God asks of me.
Ever since I have embraced my call I have worried about
every detail that would follow my decision of obedience. Would my
family “get it?” Would I lose my friends? What impact would this have on my
marriage? How is this going to affect my kids? All those questions and more
swam through my brain down into my conscience and the result has usually been an icky
feeling that twists my stomach in knots. I typically end up being full of doubt
and insecurity.
What I realize now is that having this perspective is normal, and
okay even. God understands my anxiety! What’s not normal is to dwell in it. If I am not embracing
this completely, I am not trusting God fully. It’s sort of like having on the
wrong pair of glasses. Jesus tells us “do not worry
about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble
of its own.”[1] If I were able to have the powerful foresight of my Creator, my
faith in Him would be rendered mute.
Now with the appropriate lens on I am
capable of looking in the mirror for the first time ever and seeing myself as
one of God’s children that He is proud of no matter what I “accomplish” or what
I “achieve.” He loves me, is proud of me, all because I am His. And He IS going to lead me to the right place at the right time.
My prayer today is that you
will be able to see yourself as more than a follower or believer, but truly grasp
that you are a child of the King.
[1][1]
Matthew 6:34, NASB.
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