Lessons from the Lord rarely come in convenient packages. I’m reminded of this every time my own plans are usurped by His.
The past month has been full of traveling and being away from home, and although I do like road trips, I’m very thankful to finally be back in Tucson. But, as is often the case, getting here was easier said than done. From the outset, I thought I had prepared enough to make everything run smoothly. Of course, even the most careful planning can be swept aside if God chooses. And so it went that from the first day, extreme physical discomfort made the long hours in the car much less enjoyable. Throw in a cranky toddler and breaking down on the side of the road, and we had a perfect recipe for disaster. In spite of all that, there was much to be thankful for–that we were only a mile from a town, that we had enough space in the other car to shuffle people around, that the problem was fixable (though not on our desired timetable).
And that was only the beginning. I could go on about the various challenges we faced during our trip, but in the end, what really mattered was the lesson God was revealing to me through it all: trust in the Lord to provide.
Every time I wished I had my luggage or squinted into the sun without my prescription sunglasses or got frustrated that one of the baby’s shoes was on the floor of the broken down car, the Holy Spirit would tug at me, urging me to let go of the idea that I needed these things.
This has been a difficult post for me to write, for numerous reasons. The part of me that wants to pretend I have my life together screams for me to just leave it be, that I really don’t need to share what the Lord has been doing in my life. Ample excuses abound: I’m too busy, I have other writing to work on, it’s too long gone to make any difference now. Because it’s been over two weeks since we returned home, yet the urging of the Holy Spirit remains.
I’ve written about contentment in the past, and even though I’ve had my own battles with materialism, I generally think of myself as a content person. But it wasn’t until our recent trip that I realized I merely have a high “threshold” before I start feeling the discontentment. After all, what was there to be pining after when all I had was a suitcase anyway? Yet somehow, Satan managed to wiggle in and tempt me to cling even more tightly to the few things I had instead of releasing them over to the Provider.
Upon returning home, I’ve realized just how deep-rooted my untrusting attitude has sunk into the rest of my life. And in my spirit, I know there’s a problem. When I avoid quiet time with God like a naughty child sneaking away from their parents, or when I make excuses for why I can’t serve Him at the moment, those should be immediate red flags. It trickles out into my parenting, my interactions with others, and ultimately, my relationship with Christ.
And I know this.
Maybe that’s why I’ve found it so hard to get back into posting regularly. Because I knew that this had to be the next step before moving forward again, that confrontation with my own sin was necessary to ask forgiveness of my Savior.
There are two things that have been on my heart along with the Lord’s lesson. The first is a collection of relevant verses that have reminded me that nothing is new under the sun. Probably the most fitting comes from the Beatitudes in Matthew. Jesus addresses a crowd that was much the same as people today: concerned with worldly things like clothing and food. Jesus promises that the Father knows our needs and that He will provide. More importantly, he leaves them with a challenge to “seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you” (Matt. 6:33).
God first, then provision.
The next thing on my mind is a song that’s had great significance at various times in my life. Sometimes I just need a reminder that God is “bigger than all my fears.” He is greater than the fear of being empty, than our physical needs, than every doubt we could harbor. And He is a loving God who wants more for us than this world can offer.
I’ll end this post with a great declaration of faith from the apostle John in his gospel: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (1:5). What hope it brings me to know that there is no shadow in this world that Christ can’t redeem.