Every morning I leave my house early. My faithful walking partner meets me at the edge of my driveway and the words are usually few for the first moments until we both wake up. During our 45 minute walk, we go up and down hills. The talk is always sparse on the way up a hill, as the need for oxygen prevails, and plentiful on the way down. We sweat together, laugh together, persevere together. I am so very thankful for her. I’m amazed at how God knew what I needed in an exercise partner
(and great friend!) and placed her in my very own neighborhood.
At the end of our walk, we pause at the top of a hill (near where she lives) and say goodbye. Then I go on the last 10-15 minutes on my own. I come down the hill and walk home. As I walk toward my responsibilities, my family, toward my day– I have a few minutes of quiet. A few minutes of peace in which I try to commit the day to the One who made it.
Nearly every morning, the sun is just rising. But because I’m going down hill and the neighborhood is wooded, I can never see the sun. I see the effects of the sunrise. I see the light filling the clouds, barely filtering through the trees, turning the sky from a beautiful Navy blue into pink, purple and periwinkle. It’s beautiful. But every morning I look hard to try to see more. I wish I were a little bit higher up, or that those particular trees were a bit lower, but I can never see it all.
Only a glimpse of the beautiful light which will fill our day.
Today it struck me. I struggle so much with limited vision. There are a lot of questions in our current state of life. Most of them will have answers. But, answers that are for God alone to know at this point. It’s hard to be “in the dark” about life decisions. Often we feel that we pray and pray and He is silent. We know He hears. We know He is acting on our behalf and for His glory. We know that when the time is right (His time. Not mine.) He will act. The waiting can be so hard when we just want to *see* that “it” will happen or when or how. But, my friends? That is not trust. That is not faith. That is wanting to peel back the corner of the painting before the artist is finished.
I have always loved the illustration that our lives (and our circumstances) appear to be the wrong side of a tapestry. A jumbled mess of strings that seem to be senseless and ugly. But if we could see what God sees, we would be amazed. If we could put into practice in our hearts what we say we believe to be true, we would know that the “Other Side” of what we do not see is far more beautiful than we could imagine. Not to mention, far more capable of bringing glory to God than the plans we have for ourselves.
When we allow ourselves to be honest, we may realize that we are so small. We are exceedingly small in our understanding and that our frustration over the waiting is basically whining. When we complain we say two things, 1. We do not trust Him. 2. He doesn’t deserve the care of the large and small details of our lives. Yikes. What ungratefulness we are capable of.
When God asked Job, “Will the faultfinder contend with the Almighty? Let him who reproves God answer it.” (Job 40:2)
In other words, Who are you who questions what God does?
Perhaps Job said it best,
“Behold, I am insignificant; what can I reply to Thee?
I lay my hand on my mouth.” (Job 40:4)
In other words,
“Um, I’ll be quiet now.”
As we go through moments, days and years of questions we cannot answer,
heartaches we cannot explain,
tunnels with no foreseeable light at the end,
and Light eclipsed and covered by obstacles,
let us remember–
that even a little bit of light is a blessing and…
He does ALL THINGS well.
When God is dealing with me on something, it always comes in various ways– this is one that hit me right between the eyes:
Simply Beautiful! He is a Master Painter, is He not??