I had a revelation this morning. Due to a freak blizzard last night, the office was delayed in opening until 10am. I didn’t get that information until after I had gotten up at 5:15 and just about walked out the door at 6. I was hoping to get the office early to log in some extra hours that I lost last week when another blizzard had closed our doors.
Going back to bed wasn’t an option; I had already downed about four cups of coffee. So I grabbed my computer and went to Panera for some free internet… and more coffee.
As I sat in Panera, with about 20 gentlemen who kept looking at me like I was some sort of alien, I grew increasingly irritated. “All I want to be doing right now is working ‘on the clock’ and making up for the hours that Mother Nature selfishly stole from me last week. My next pay check is going to be so small. This is rediculous. I have things to do, meetings to go to, emails to return, and reports to edit.”
As I sat thinking about how out of control I felt over my life and how it may just being unraveling before my eyes and slipping through my fingers (dramatization is a actually fairly accurate portrayel of my feelings…. which is so sad) I felt God gently whisper, “This is just where I want you.”
“You are in fact not in control of your life. I ordain where you go, how you get there, and what you do. What may seem to be unfortunate weather patterns that prevent you from ‘clocking in’ are in fact my ways of keeping your dependent and focused on me, not your pay check.”
Then it dawned on me; I’m just like my dad. “Daddy” has to hold the remote control, even if he doesn’t change the channel. I don’t know what it is about having it in his hand that makes the whole experience of watching TV that much better… but it is a non-negotiable. He has to hold it.
I’m just like my dad, only I my “remote control” is my planner, my calender, my time, and my bank account. It was a sobering realization at 6:30 in the morning. I didn’t want to think about just how small my faith was and how much I don’t act like I trust in His provision when I say that I do.
Just one more thing to work on. One more thing to overcome. One more way in which I realized don’t look like Jesus. And all I want to do is look like Jesus.
So I’m frusterated about that. And yet, I feel as if I have reason to rejoice. Because what if I never realized that fault? What if my eyes were never open to those things which are hinderances to the progression of my faith? I would never look like Jesus. I would never become more like Him, the way that He has called me to.
So I’m ok with this restlessness; I’m ok with being unsettled about those things that I need to work on because at the end of the day, I think that’s the Spirit stirring up in me what He desires and stifling what it is that I desire.
John 3:30 says that “He must increase and I must decrease.”
Easier said than done. I want it anyway.