A Question Worth Asking
I’ve always had a passion for children who are suffering. Everyone has a different area where they feel the tug on their heart strings just a little bit stronger, and for me it’s always been the innocence of young lives colliding with the fallen world. I know that one day I want my life to be consumed and given to this passion, but I have also learned enough in life thus far to know that forcing matters of such significance rarely leads to the desired effect. It’s a cliche, but God’s timing is perfect and I hold fast to the promise that he will deliver the desire of my heart to me when I am ready and the situation is right.
So I pray.
And I wait.
I’ve asked God many times for an opportunity to arise and signify the “beginning” of my life’s work. This is a curiously human way of viewing such far-reaching and eternal concepts, and as I’ve wrote about recently, I’m now seeing that growth happens naturally and over long periods of time.
I had been looking for a sign to reveal itself and mark the start of something new, when in reality I’ve been growing deeper in Christ all this time. I’ve had blinders on, tunnel vision that kept me staring at the big picture while day-to-day opportunities passed me by like clockwork. The Lord has begun revealing these moments to me now that my heart has aligned it’s focus, and one of these moments in particular stood out above all the others.
An Answer Worth Waiting For
My wife was raised in a less than ideal situation. This isn’t meant to accuse or condemn those who had a hand in it, which is why I won’t elaborate on the details, but it is vitally important to recognize because as adults we are largely shaped by what we experience as children. Our fears, joys, struggles, relationships, and interactions with others are all shaped by this defining time in our life.
Christ has called us to himself as little children, and that call doesn’t imply physical age exclusively. In many ways we are all much younger spiritually and emotionally than our physical age, carrying baggage and hurt that is an unavoidable result of being raised in a cruel world.
Recently I was driving with my wife and two young girls, listening to music and dwelling on Christ in my mind. My thoughts turned as they often do to inquiring about what the future might hold.
What came next was so simple, yet so profound that it changed my entire paradigm of thinking.
God spoke to my heart and said “Do you see your wife sitting there? To you she may be an adult and mature, but she is still my small child and I love her deeply, like you love your two girls. Before I can give you more responsibility you must learn to see your wife with the eyes I see her with. Time is irrelevant to me, and I still see her as that young child, scared and hurting, desperately trying to make sense of the world she sees around her. Desperately looking for a love that won’t come with strings or judgement attached.”
Those words have been burned into my heart, and I’m now beginning to see that age often has very little to do with how the Lord sees us. It wasn’t the answer I was expecting, but it was an answer worth waiting for.