Adrian was helping his dad with some outdoors maintenance. I heard the hissing noise of muffled teenage complaints, followed by Thomas’ calm voice, “But you haven’t secured the ladder! By shifting its position, you make sure that it won’t slip or fall.” More grumpy hissing. As I passed by, I commented, “It’s OK, Adrian. But to learn you’ll have to listen.”
Immediately, I felt a pang of conviction in my heart. I had been reading about the revelatory gifts, of stepping out of my comfort zone to communicate the heart of the Father to others, and I felt Holy Spirit whispering to me, “It’s OK, but to learn you’ll have to listen.”
I wonder what my grumpy hissing sounds like?
What are my excuses for not actively pursuing the Father’s heart for those around me?
I could almost hear the ringing sound of my most common objections and they sounded pretty much like my son’s. “Fine! But how about giving me clear instructions?” “How do I know that you’ll set me up for success?” “I’ve tried and failed miserably. You could have held my ladder, couldn’t you?”
Now and then I find myself unwilling to engage unless I’m guaranteed a positive outcome. It doesn’t have to be perfect, but I am reluctant to get involved unless I reckon that it’s likely to improve the current situation. I want to know in advance that it will be worth it.
That hardly ever works with God.
He doesn’t really care whether I think it’s worth it or not. He thinks that’s none of my business. God never asks me whether I think it would be a good investment or not. He already knows.
When he tells me to go, it’s already worth it. Every single time.
There’s grace in the process.
Whenever I hear Adrian grumbling about what needs to be done, I know that’s the sound of the removing of tent pegs, the enlargement of territory, the absorption of knowledge, and the expansion of competency.
Too often we ask for the skills, the knowledge, the influence, without being willing for work for it, not realizing that without engagement there’s no ownership. There’s nothing to pass on, nothing to multiply. You are left without anything to refine or increase. That’s how life withers and dies.
Truth is, it was never about the paint job. It’s not even about helping his dad.
As a mom, I’m not concerned with the brilliant outcome. I want my kids to learn how to assume responsibility, contribute to improvement, take instructions, evaluate progress, develop stamina, and adventure into the unknown. I want my son to get involved even though he doesn’t fully envision the end result. He doesn’t have to. Someone else has. His job is just to do.
As is mine.
Could it be that my heavenly Father is more concerned with my continuous pursuit of his love, rather than my being right? Is the journey more important than the goal? Or more correctly, is my walk with the Father my God-given purpose?
What if the final outcome of my life is more than the sum of all that I have accomplished?
Could it be that the end result of my earthly wandering is more than I am capable of envisioning?
Such as learning how to love?
If I’m rooted in love, it doesn’t really matter whether I see concrete results of what I do or not. If I’ve done it in love, then I’ve already accomplished my mission. Always. Whenever the Father’s heart is conveyed through my life I get to see Heaven come to earth, if only for a moment.
If I’m compelled by love it’s not so difficult to reach out to my neighbor. If love’s the goal for every connection it really doesn’t matter whether I know what to say or do. It’s no longer important to feel capable or in control if my desire is to love my King with a servant’s heart and serve with the heart of a King.
I’m rehearsing life, learning how to listen for clues from the Holy Spirit and loving well. I’m trusting him to hold my ladder.
It’s OK, I just have to listen.
I am so inspired this season by this song called Reckless love. It challenges me to love as my God loves. “What if we’re just beginning and there is no end to love?”
https://youtu.be/zmPd5UwtW6A