I’ve been struggling to come up with posts on this blog for the past few weeks. I want this blog to be about Jesus, sharing the Gospel, and showing how Christ is shaping and nurturing my little life. But, when I strive to write something profound, I find myself paralyzed. I’ll listen to wonderful sermons by our two wise pastors, or read brilliant writing of other Christians and suddenly my contribution and voice seem small and inadequate. I’ve been thinking and searching for answers lately.
At work, part of my job is scheduling our auditors. It’s a big complex puzzle to plan busy season jobs, matching client timing with our staffing which includes several team members at various levels. It’s a challenge and I enjoy it a lot. But, in my motivation and excitement to tackle this big project, I found myself stalled. I didn’t know how to approach it.
“I wish I could simultaneously see all the jobs, all the staff, and all the potential conflicts at the same time so it would all just work.” I found myself thinking.
It would be great to be all-knowing and all-powerful, right?
But, being human, that’s not possible. So, instead I worked on a plan to systematically go through all the jobs, evaluate what staffing issues exists for that particular job, look for solutions, make a list of questions to bring to the management group, and create a master spreadsheet for tracking and following up on issues. The only way to get to the final answer is to do the hard work of evaluating and looking for solutions to each individual issue.
Personally, this week I thought a very similar thing in terms of my emotional and mental state.
“I wish I could combine all the wise, helpful, peace-inducing thoughts and hold them in my mind simultaneously.”
Oh that’s right, I’m human.
After a few days of thinking and striving to figure things out for myself (in other words, after activating my struggle switch), I came full circle in prayer this morning.
“Okay, Lord. Help me figure out the answer I’m looking for.” I prayed.
There is no answer.
“I am the answer.”
One of my favorite Michael Card songs is called Could it Be and the chorus goes:
Could it be you make your presence known so often by your absence?
Could it be that questions tell us more than answers ever do?
Could it be that you would really rather die than live without us?
Could it be the only answer that means anything is you?
I’ve been singing this song on a weekly (if not daily) basis to Sienna or Mateo for over six years. They know it by heart. It’s so simplistically true.
For humanity on Earth, before Christ’s return, we will never have the full answer. We’re fallen, sinful, and don’t come close to the glory of God. The best thing we can do is trust in Almighty God, Creator of heaven and earth, who sent his Son to pay for our sins and reconcile us to himself. He has a plan and we are not let in on it, yet.
As I’ve been on this path of growth the past year, I’ll often feel motivated to grow and learn new things. But, I’m often in the drivers’ seat in that process. I’ve been giving my thoughts a lot of attention and importance. I’ve been asking myself, “What do I want to learn?” instead of asking God, “What do you want to teach me?”
So, I’m going to try to stop striving to write something important and profound for this blog. Instead, I’m going to share my thoughts and feelings, as unsophisticated as they might be. To “be still and know” is about letting God drive my growth, impart his lessons, and unfold the life he created for me.
As I trudged up the hill this morning after surrendering, this song lyric popped into my mind: “He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it.” It’s based on Philippians 1:6: “And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it completion at the day of Jesus Christ.”
On the day of Christ Jesus, then we’ll get the full answer.