You may have noticed that I skipped out on my #reverb11 yesterday. We were en route back from our mountain vacation weekend and between packing up, driving home, and winning first place at trivia last night (yes, I'm bragging on my team), writing just didn't happen. That being said, I really liked yesterday's prompt so tonight I'm going to try my hardest to combine it with the one from today. I feel like they go together well anyway, so let's give this a shot...
The prompt: When did you struggle?
The prompt: What did you discover?
Struggles often lead to discovery.
C.S. Lewis once said that "God allows us to experience the low points in life in order to teach us lessons that we could learn in no other way." I'm a firm believer in the fact that God doesn't allow us to run helplessly through the difficult times of life because He's left us or because He enjoys watching us squirm. No, that isn't biblical. I believe fully in the fact that just as He promises us in Jeremiah 29:11, He has plans for our good. Romans 8:28 promises us that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to His purpose. My range of vision is incredibly narrow and in the midst of difficulty, sometimes all I can focus on are the ways it's unfair and the ways it hurts. But God, who is mindbogglingly infinite, can see all-- He sees what was, what is, what's going to come of it, what could have happened, everything. Sometimes it's hard for me to grasp that. Sometimes I can look backwards at the struggles and see why I was allowed to go through them and see what they taught me. Other times it seems that I may never understand. When struggles meet my inability to see past the end of my nose, that is where my faith is put into action.
In 2011, I can think of a few things that I struggled through. The beauty in struggling is that not only does it grow and teach you and help you to see all the beautiful blessings in your life, it also gives you absolutely no option but to lean fully on the Lord. I've seen His face so much more clearly in the times when I had nothing else to focus on. I'm blessed enough to say that I haven't had any major hardships this year, but I've certainly struggled in a multitude of ways. I've struggled, but I'm grateful for each struggle and what it has taught me during the process and living here in the aftermath.
I struggled a lot through this past summer at camp with some difficult situations.
From that I discovered the beauty of leaning on one another and the fact that we can never control everything.
I struggled as a leader.
From that I discovered that the Lord works best through my weakness. I've learned a lot about who I am and now I lead, and God has rewarded that.
I struggled to spend as much time with God as I wish I had.
From that I discovered that His mercies are continual and new. We don't live within the law and because of such, He isn't disappointed in us when we don't always get it right. He is grace. He is peace. He longs for us with such a sweet affection.
I struggled as I tried to listen to the Lord about my future.
From that I discovered more about how God speaks and what His voice sounds like. I also discovered the next small piece of the journey He and I will walk together.
We all struggle in the day to day to live lives that are holy and pleasing to God. We struggle to accomplish our to-do list, keep our priorities straight, and live an impactual life.
But the struggles are there to teach us, grow us, and guide us.
I'll close tonight with a story that my DNow leader read to me when I was in middle school. Years later, it's a story that I've often had the blessing of sharing with other middle school girls in lots of settings. It might speak best to that crowd, but there are still some truths in here we can all learn from. It's a beautiful picture of the Lord as the Potter and us as mere clay in His hands. So until tomorrow, enjoy the story and have a great night!
There was a couple who used to go to England to shop in the beautiful stores. They both liked antiques and pottery and especially teacups. This was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.
One day in this beautiful shop they saw a beautiful teacup. They said, "May we see that? We've never seen one quite so beautiful."
As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke. "You don't understand," it said. "I haven't always been a teacup.
There was a time when I was red and I was clay. My master took me and rolled me and patted me over and over and I yelled out, "let me alone", but he only smiled, "Not yet."
"Then I was placed on a spinning wheel," the teacup said, "and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. Stop it! I'm getting dizzy! I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, 'Not yet.'
Then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I wondered why he wanted to burn me, and I yelled and knocked at the door. I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as He shook his head, 'Not yet.'
Finally the door opened, he put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. 'There, that's better,' I said. And he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. 'Stop it, stop it!' I cried. He only nodded, 'Not yet.'
Then suddenly he put me back into the oven, not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. All the time I could see him through the opening nodding his head saying, 'Not yet.'
Then I knew there wasn't any hope. I would never make it. I was ready to give up. But the door opened and he took me out and placed me on the shelf. One hour later he handed me a mirror and said, 'Look at yourself. And I did. I said, 'That's not me; that couldn't be me. It's beautiful. I'm beautiful.'
'I want you to remember, then,' he said, 'I know it hurts to be rolled and patted, but if I had left you alone, you'd have dried up.
I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I knew it hurt and was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn't put you there, you would have cracked.
I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn't done that, you never would have hardened; you would not have had any color in your life.
And if I hadn't put you back in that second oven, you wouldn't survive for very long because the hardness would not have held.
Now you are a finished product. You are what I had in mind when I first began with you.
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