We are in the process of building a house. In the course of life, the process in fact will probably feel like a tiny little blip, like it moved so fast. But right now? Right now, it feels like it's taking FOR-EV-ER!
Is it the season we are in? Is it the deep desire to live in our own space? To have our own pictures and furniture surrounding us? I know that God is teaching us incredible lessons in this wait and process.
One of which is understanding more deeply what it feels like for the thousands of children who don't have a home to call their own. Children living in foster care waiting. Hoping. Maybe they'll get to return to a home they knew and maybe the people who they need to take care of them will be able to do so. Or maybe someone will be ready to adopt them and give them that sense of permanency? I can only imagine how incredibly slow and difficult it must feel to be a child without a choice in the matter, when my own chosen six months in someone else's beautiful and welcoming home can feel so challenging at times.
My devotional today told the story of Abraham being called into a new journey at age 75. The slow work of God in that story. And a question about God's slow work in my life? I think my writing journey feels like that a little. When I was nine and ten years old, I wrote stories EVERY day. I told my mom I was going to be an author. And then I didn't write again until very recently - except in a prayer journal or for class assignments. So here I am - expecting? As Mary expected the birth of Jesus? Expecting to have some finished profound product in a mere matter of months. But even in the life and ministry of Jesus there was a wait between the promise and the provision. Though we see Jesus born in Bethlehem, it is 30 years later when he begins his ministry. What happened in that wait? What was God doing? How was God molding the Son? The Light of the World? The Mighty Counselor? The Prince of Peace? God with Us.
A little over a week ago, I ended up in tears at the dinner table when our nightly question book asked,
"Why are you impressive?"
That afternoon, I had received a rejection notice for a training I was hoping to attend in the spring. I just couldn't hold that question. I felt so very unimpressive. But then my girls jumped in...
You are so good at reading aloud.
You are great at drawing our birthday pictures.
You can really laugh at yourself.
You are a good mom.
You know, in the moments we want to be seen as impressive by some outside person or entity and we just aren't seen that way can be really tough. It's hard to see how God is still doing slow work on our hearts and in our lives. Molding us. Moving us. How God sees us as impressive.
But in that moment. In that day. The redemptive work I needed was in my own home around my own table. To recognize that what I might not have ever named as impressive are the things that help my daughters look up to me. That those are the things that I hope will help them look to God in seeing God's slow work in their lives as well. Because in fact, I though I might desire to be impressive on my own will and glory, it is only through God's beautiful redemptive love that I will ever be impressive. And the bigger truth is, that Jesus finds me impressive just because I'm me. He see you that way too dear friend. A beautiful, impressive daughter or son.
(If they think I'm impressive, that's a huge win! Did you even know that I had a hidden talent for drawing birthday pictures?)
How do you see God's slow moving work in your life today?