One of the
things that drew me to the church I attend is that the experience of the
formation of this congregation is a lot like the process I went through with my
family coming out here. So, there is a
similar attitude and perspective. I look
back and see the steps (although I sometimes forget the order they came), and I’m
reminded that I was brought here. All
along the way, I have been amazed at how my Master met all the needs I was
concerned about, and sometimes worried about. At times I tried to make something happen and it just refused to
materialize. I had to wait for my Master
to connect the dots.
I remember
the difference in feelings when I tried to accomplish something, and when my
Master had to make it happen. When I worked
at it, I was stressed. When I quit
trying to make it happen, there was peace, and my Master met the need. This happened over and over. What is still amazing to me is that I
continue to try to make things happen.
After such a dramatic lesson, I would think it would be obvious that
what I can do doesn’t amount to enough to warrant the stress it causes. I guess it’s learning to differentiate between
obedience and busyness; that is really my problem. I still want to do something, which springs
from a core problem.
I know that
feeling, that feeling of wanting to accomplish something. It usually comes when I start to believe that
everyone around me is better than me; has better skills, knows more,
whatever. Instead of replying with an
obvious, “well, duh” I try to demonstrate my own knowledge and skills. To quote my daughter, “FAIL!” It is not about me! It is not about “them” and me, “them”
compared to me, or even “them”! What is
so difficult about that lesson? Well, I am. The capital “I” continues to live, breathe,
and have too much influence. My focus
needs to be on my Master.
In this
season, focus on my Master should be easy.
This is the season celebrating the coming of the Prince of Peace. In church tradition, both the Advent of the
divine Child, and the return of the Lord of heavens armies are both
celebrated. This and Easter are my
favorite holidays. I have decorated my
yard with that as my focus. My house has
more manger scenes than any other decoration (my daughter collects them). This should be a time of intense focus on
Jesus. Yet, here I feel most inadequate,
and I don’t know why. The year is
closing? The future is rushing at
me? Perhaps cold short days are
affecting me? I don’t really know why.
It’s true
for lots of people, testified by the increase in suicides and so on. But why it would be true for me is not easily
accessible to me. Such peace I cannot
comprehend is available to me in this season, and I sulk in self-pity and
fear. That’s crazy; especially since I know
it’s crazy! Hello! I am here because I was brought. I am where my Master clearly wants me. I must let my fear of others fall away, let
the drone of other voices fade into a hum, and embrace the warmth of my Master’s
presence. And then I must do it again, and
again, and again. And then I’ll do it
some more.
For my
Master loved His human creatures so much that He wrapped His Son in humanity
and entered our history as a baby. He
did this so that any of His human creatures who believe in Him will not be wiped
from creation, but live eternally in His presence. This is the truth wrapped in swaddling
clothes, lying in a manger. And just as
there was no room in the Inn two millennia ago, there so often is no room in
human hearts today. With such truth in
my mind, I feel it enter my heart, and I tremble. Why then would I let anything distract me
from such beauty? Not today. Today, this minute, hopefully this hour, is
my Master’s.
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