We measure time by precious moments. The left spiral of the clock’s hands captures memories. We often express time as something spent. Time is not currency though. It is something given, just a breath, while we exist on this plane. I didn’t waste my time this weekend, I didn’t spend it either. I reflected on the transformation—who I am becoming and how each experience is shaping me into Christ-like character, or how I need to submit to Christ’s authority still.
If I’m honest, I’ve been ravaged by doubt, confusion, and anger lately. Current events are pruning the deadened character that’s taken root. I might not have realized it before. It took the shedding of uterine lining and the hope of expectation to assess the shedding of discontentment that needs to take place.
I’ve always looked for what’s next rather than what is. I’m not promised tomorrow so why should I grow anxious waiting for it? Discontentment has been feeding as I seek to abandon New Jersey and barrenness. I haven’t asked why God has placed me here and for what purpose I’m to serve. Instead, I’ve been fighting, begging to be plucked and placed elsewhere or receive another lot. I’ve wanted different hosting ground—somehow believing that a different place, career, or circumstance would set mundane ablaze.
As I sat by the campfire, observing the crackling wood and the ember’s glow, I wondered what I’ve yet to sacrifice, surrender. The altar of burnt offering was used to sacrifice an animal, a pleasing aroma unto God, so sin was forgiven. I reflected on the envy and wrath that’s been sucking out my joyful countenance. I pondered how the discontentment stench is repugnant to my Savior’s nostrils. I thought of how I’ve spit upon the sacrifice Christ did for me and taking for granted the plans he has yet to weave. I’ve stopped trusting the beauty of his craftsmanship and being grateful for today. He died so I am free. He releases me from anxiety. With Christ I have a purpose other than just copulation and birthing. I need to embrace that and live the fullest life he’s afforded me to have.
This weekend as I itched the pest embedding teeth in my thigh (my husband isn’t a pest), I thought of how thirsty I am for renewal (well when I was screaming about getting the bugger out). I yearn to be used for God’s purposes, not just selfish ambition. God is good regardless of what I expect or get from life. His definition of family and adequacy is different than my own and the world’s. We need a relationship/fellowship based on mutual communication with him to understand his purposes, not just want a “vending machine” God. So it is into his hands I commit my will and pray I’ll keep surrendering while seeking a relationship with the triune deity whatever lies ahead or not.