Today, I’m tired.
I’m just not sure about where I am.
I don’t know what to do next.
I’m wondering how long it’s going to take for something to change.
So, today, I am going to stop trying. I’m going to stop this relentless chase for things I know I cannot control. I’m going to not be anxious or wishful for what’s next.
I’m going to slow down. I’m going to remember the Lord knows what’s ahead and I do not. I’m going to allow Him to take me wherever He wants to go.
I’m going to be honest. It feels like time is running out. As I look at each day counting down on the calendar, I think it should signify one day closer to new and better things. But right now, all it feels like is a whole lot of nowhere.
Maybe “new and better things” has more to do with the state of my heart than my season in life.
What is He doing? I don’t have any idea. The only thing I can see are challenges and obstacles – problems I have to address and situations I have to handle. I only see places where I should be working harder, doing better, and finding ways around what’s blocking my path. But I know the Lord sees opportunity and the perfect ground for sowing and planting; a place where new things can grow.
So instead of waiting for Him to open the gate, I’m going to stay in this secret place for as long as He needs me here. It’s starting to feel a little claustrophobic, but I choose to believe it is still good.
It is good, even when I cannot see. I know it will only lead to good things.
And staying here is okay. What I have is enough. What He is doing will prepare me for His best.
This is His best. Right here. In this place. These circumstances. This moment in time. It is His best for my life today.
Teach me not to run, Lord. Teach me to be patient and wait for You to move. Teach me to see what You want me to see and teach me how I can use this time to show Your grace to the world. Teach me to love the simplicity and appreciate this moment of empty hands. I know You will use it. I know this ground was meant to produce fruit and I know a season of barrenness is required before you can bring me there. Remind me to trust You every step of the way.