Tag: Waiting

Faithfully Working In Me

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

While my husband finished his breakfast, I let our toddler cuddle up on my lap, or what was left of it. At 36 weeks pregnant there’s not a lot of room left on my lap for her.

We chatted about the plan for the day.

I gave my daughter a little squeeze. “You get to stay with Grandma today while I go to a doctor’s appointment for baby.”

My toddler rested her head against me. “Strong and healthy.”

“That’s right. The doctor is checking to make sure baby is strong and healthy.”

I glanced across the table at my husband. “It’s a routine appointment. They’ll likely want me to book another one for next week since I’m so far along now. What are you up to today?”

My husband launched into a description of his expected meetings and the project he had on the go at work.

His words trailed off when our daughter sat bolt upright, shock covering her face.

I laughed. “Baby just kicked you.” I had felt the strong movement too.

Her shock turned to a grin, as she shifted to rest a hand on my belly.

“You really felt that didn’t you?”

“More?”

“He might kick you again, but I don’t know if he will. Sometimes he kicks a lot, but sometimes he is sleeping. I think he was sleeping just a minute ago, but then he kicked you.”

It wasn’t until the next morning that I found myself thinking about how the movements of my soon-to-be-born baby can stand as a meaningful reminder to me of how God works in my life.

Let me explain.

The kicks of an unborn baby are a wonderful, reassuring thing (though sometimes uncomfortable). Each kick is a reminder that he is alive and active. At checkups, the doctor asks if I’ve been feeling the baby kick because it is an important indicator that the baby is doing well.

Yet the baby isn’t always kicking. Sometimes he is sleeping.

More often than not, it is when I am busy or walking about that he sleeps. Then, within minutes of my sitting down or lying down to relax, I feel him start kicking.

His movements aren’t always the same either. Sometimes I feel his kicks on the right side, sometimes on the left. Sometimes he jabs at my ribs (those aren’t so comfortable), while other times he kicks deep within me. At times his movements are big and pronounced, visible to those sitting beside me. At other times, they are subtle and easy to miss. Still other times his movements are not kicks at all. Instead they are the steady rhythm of hiccups.

When I don’t feel him actively moving, does it mean there is a problem? No, unless the stillness lasts too long. He is most likely taking a nap while he continues to grow and develop.

Similar can be said of my relationship with God.

Sometimes I can see and feel that God is actively at work in my life. I know that I am walking with Him and He is growing me closer to Him.

Other times, I can’t feel Him. I sometimes start to worry – am I still following God? Have I become distant? Is He still at work in my life?

Just because I can’t feel God at the moment, doesn’t mean there is something wrong. God can still be at work in my life, even when I don’t feel it.

Often it is in the seasons of busyness that I feel Him less – such as the season I’m about to step into as the mom of a newborn.

That said, to help my baby’s growth and development be at an optimum, I must continue to eat a reasonably healthy diet, take my prenatal vitamins, and drink water – lots and lots of water.

Regardless of whether I have felt my baby kicking in the past while, I continue to eat for his optimum growth.

The same should be the case in my walk with Jesus. Regardless of whether I feel super close to God at the moment, it is still critical to be ingesting a healthy spiritual diet – Bible reading, worship songs, prayer, and times of fellowship with other Christians.

These elements will help keep me growing and learning more about God whether I feel it or not.

Today, whether I feel it or not, may I trust that, “He who started a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6 CSB)

Traveling Through Train Tunnels

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

Some people have a wonderfully simple way of wording things. Today’s allegory is inspired by a quote attributed to Corrie ten Boom. To bring the quote to life, I have woven a story. At the end, I will share the quote which I’m sure will be as inspirational to you as it has been to me.

Standing on the station platform, I studied the incoming train. I glanced at the ticket in my hand. Yes, this was the train I needed to get to the Bible school.

Once the departing passengers cleared, I climbed aboard and located an empty seat in the half-full train car.

Parking my suitcase by my feet, I pulled my backpack onto my lap.

A few minutes later, the train gave a lurch and proceeded on its way.

I glanced around me. No English anywhere. All the ads and station names were illegible to me. Each snippet of conversation that reached me from fellow passengers was as good as jibberish. I understood none of it.

Rather than let that worry me, I leaned back, letting my gaze roam the city streets we hurried through. They too were entirely unfamiliar. I had no way of telling whether this train was heading the right direction. Yet, the number on the outside of the train matched that on my ticket. Surely it would take me there.

I knew it would be more than an hour until I arrived, so I allowed my mind to wander as I admired the rich greens of the countryside we’d entered.

I knew a little about my destination. Around 100 students would be there, none of whom I’d met before. Classes would be in English. Our rooms and food were provided. It was near a lake.

Still, a million unknowns crowded into my mind.

I pushed the worries away. I would trust God. He’d pointed me this direction. I would follow. He would give me what I needed.

The steady rhythm of the track made my head begin to nod. I hadn’t slept well during the hours spent on the plane.

I pulled my backpack closer as my eyelids drooped.

I sat bolt upright, aware that I’d been sleeping. Something was different.

It took me a moment to realise the train had been thrown into darkness.

Looking out the window, all I could see was black.

I felt the train turn, as it wound through the darkness. Were we going in the right direction?

I bit my lip. I really did not want to get lost in this foreign country. Was I on the wrong train? Should I pull the emergency brake and jump off here?

No, I was certain this was the train I was meant to be on.

I had no idea what direction my stop was, but the train driver knew.

As I watched the beginnings of light returning to the outside world, I leaned back in my seat. I would have to trust the driver. He knew what he was doing.

So, what was that quote I mentioned at the beginning of the post? You may have heard it before.

“When a train goes through a tunnel and it gets dark, you don’t throw away the ticket and jump off. You sit still and trust the Driver.” – Corrie ten Boom

What does this allegory mean? Picture God as the train driver or engineer.

When I became a Christian, God invited me onto a train. He set a new life before me – different from the life I was living before.

Sometimes as I travel on the train that God is driving, everything seems wonderful and happy. At other times, the train goes through a tunnel and life gets hard… very hard.

When life gets hard do I turn my back on God and jump off the train He has put me on? Or do I trust that He is still in control and knows what He is doing?

For Corrie ten Boom, a very dark tunnel came in the form of the Nazi Ravensbrück concentration camp. She watched her sister, Betsy, die and faced brutal treatment day in and day out. Yet Corrie did not abandon her faith in God. She trusted the Driver, and He carried her through.

When a dark tunnel comes in my life, may I follow Corrie ten Boom’s example. May I trust that God is still in control. He will see me through.

 

If you want to read Corrie ten Boom’s story, I highly recommend her book The Hiding Place.

Held Back?

Posted on by S. J. Little
A lonely stroller with the title Held Back?

 

The other day, my husband and I went for a walk with our little one. The skies were clear and it was an exceptionally warm spring day.

As we approached a steep hill, we strapped our little one into her stroller.

With my husband handling the stroller, we began the descent, thankful for the well-paved path.

My husband, being much taller than I am, let the incline carry him faster and faster. I hastened to keep up.

I laughed. “You and your long legs. You can go so much faster than me.”

Slowing so I could keep up, my husband replied, “Our little one could go faster than either of us if I let her.”

I glanced down the rest of the hill. He was right. If allowed to, the stroller, with our little one in it, had the potential to gain tremendous speed. That is, until it reached the first bend in the path and toppled.

I wasn’t worried. I knew my husband and his deep desire for our daughter to have the best. I knew he would protect her from such a traumatic accident.

“I’m glad you don’t let her reach her full potential,” I replied lightly.

How ironic. Typically we want our children to reach their full potential, but here my husband was holding our daughter back and I was glad.

That got me thinking. Sometimes I feel stuck – like I’m chomping at the bit – unable to reach my full potential.

Could it be that God, my Father, is the one holding me back? Could His plans be different than mine?

The Bible says:

“As the heavens are higher than the earth,

so are My ways higher than your ways

and My thoughts than your thoughts.”

(Isaiah 55:9 NIV)

Do I really believe God knows better than me?

Sometimes I feel stifled in my growth and in what I am able to do. If I were a full-time writer, just think how many books I could produce! However, most of my time is spent caring for my family and keeping house. These are very good things, and I typically enjoy them. Yet they hold me back from what could be my full potential in a different set of circumstances.

Don’t get me wrong. There is a time to change things up. A season to put some things aside so I can focus more on what God would have me pursue at that time.

There is also a time to embrace where God has put me now and learn to thrive in it.  Like a plant flourishing where it is planted, not pining to be transplanted or let loose.

How do I respond when I feel held back from what I believe to be my full potential? Do I pout and mope? Do I dare to criticize God? Or do I take my frustration straight to God, telling Him how I feel, then trusting that He knows best? 

If He wants me to do more, He will give me what I need for it when the time is right. I am thankful God is patient with me every time I forget this.

Indeed, there may be a time when it is good for my daughter to move at tremendous speeds – such as when her daddy teaches her to drive. Such speeds are beyond her one-year-old comprehension. That day in the stroller, to go zooming off down the path would have ended badly. It was beyond her ability to handle that speed in that circumstance. Her daddy understood this so he held her back.

God understands what is beyond my ability to handle right now. His holding me back from what I believe to be my full potential is because He knows best. He knows my true potential.

But, wait. Is this a Biblical principle? I’m glad you asked. Here are some examples of people in the Bible whom, I suspect, felt God was holding them back from their full potential, or at least from the life they felt called to or desired. Let me know in the comments if you agree.

David was a shepherd boy – a nobody. One day a prophet anointed David telling him that he would be the next king. At some point after that, David became a servant of the current king, Saul. Then things turned nasty. King Saul tried to kill David. For years David was running for his life. During that time, do you think David ever felt held back from his full potential – the thing God had called him to? Yet it was more than 10 years between the time God called him and when he finally became king. (1 Samuel 16 – 2 Samuel 5)

The demon-possessed man Jesus healed in Luke 8 also comes to mind. He wanted to follow Jesus.

“The man from whom the demons had gone out begged to go with Him, but Jesus sent him away, saying, ‘Return home and tell how much God has done for you.’ So the man went away and told all over town how much Jesus had done for him.” (Luke 8:38-39 NIV) 

Finally, I think of the Apostle Paul. Something was holding him back from what he felt was his full potential. Bible commentators vary in their speculation of what that something was. Whatever it was, it felt like a weakness – a hindrance. Paul wrote about it in 2 Corinthians 12:7b-9:

“I was given a thorn in my flesh… Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” (NIV)

Today, in the midst of a culture urging me to push harder and reach bigger, may I rest in the fact that God knows what He is doing. His timing is perfect. May I thrive in this season right now.

As the well-known proverb puts it:

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart,

and do not rely on your own understanding;

in all your ways know Him,

and He will make your paths straight.”

Proverbs 3:5-6 (CSB)

Have you been running too hard recently? Do you need a reminder that it is okay to prioritize in this season of your life? I recently listened to a fantastic podcast on that very topic. I encourage you to listen in:
https://www.authormedia.com/why-saying-no-is-crucial-for-publishing-success-a-pruning-story/ 

When Things Get Smokey

Posted on by S. J. Little

 

My phone beeps. There is a poor air quality alert for my area.

As I sit at my desk while my baby naps, I glance outside. I cannot see the blue sky. The sun is a weird shade of yellow casting a red glow on the floor.

My eyes wander to the other side of the valley where normally I would see green trees and a myriad of colours from the buildings. Everything is grey and faded.

I turn back to my computer. I only have so much time before my baby wakes up. I’ve got to make use of the time.

I pull up the email I’m working on.

A few minutes later, I glance up. The whole sky has dimmed to an orange fog. The speck of bright light which must be the sun is pumpkin orange. I cannot see the other side of the valley. I feel heavy inside and my fight-or-flight system considers kicking in.

I catch a whiff of smoke. I typically don’t mind the smell as it reminds me of many happy times around a campfire, but when the smoke is everywhere… I frown, hoping the windows will keep most of it out.

Trying to focus, I drag my gaze back to my computer screen, but that unsettling orange glow keeps drawing my attention back to the window.

I pray for the firefighters who are working to contain the fire, then remind myself that there is nothing more I can do right now. The forest fire is miles away. I would have to drive more than 500 km (~300 miles) to get there.

Right now, I need to focus on my task.

I turn to my computer. “Okay, I’ve just got to do the next thing. What is the one thing I need to do next?”

I need to look up some numbers to include in my email.

Okay, I can do that.

Done.

My eyes wander to the window. I may as well be living on Mars. That’s how orange it looks just now.

I glance at the baby monitor on my desk. She’s still asleep. I’ve got to keep working.

“Do the next thing.”

What’s the next thing?

Find the email addresses I’m sending this email to.

Okay, I can do that.

It takes me a few moments to locate the list. I notice I need to add a few more addresses. I do that.

I glance out the window. Still orange. So weird. Nearly spooky. It makes me feel anxious.

But I’ve got to do the next thing.

What’s the next thing?

Write a subject for the email.

Okay, I can do that.

After a few attempts, I am happy with the subject line.

I reach for my phone and move to the window. I switch to my camera and take several pictures. I want to capture the feel of it, but the camera simply won’t do justice to the strength of the orange outside.

I give up. Back at my desk, I remind myself, my baby could wake up any time now. I’ve got to do the next thing.

Proofread my email.

Okay, I can do that.

I read it aloud, tweaking some words as I go. At last, I am satisfied and hit send.

Leaning back in my chair, I peer out the window. Is it just me, or is the orange beginning to fade?

Oh, look! I can see some of the buildings across the valley. Certainly not in full colour, but the dim outlines are back.

I crane my neck to locate the sun. It appears somewhat, almost, yellow-ish again.

A hint of the weight inside me lightens. Perhaps, just maybe, the blue sky will be visible again and the sun will shine its happy yellow.

It might take a few days, but I know the sky is blue and I will not give up hope that I will see that blue again.

Why share this story? Because it holds a valuable reminder for me.

Sometimes life gets smokey when something creates smoke which comes in and blocks our vision. That something may be close to home and personal, or perhaps far bigger but further away.

Much of the time, there is nothing we can do to stop that smoke until the source fire is dealt with.

At this moment, I can pray, but beyond that there is nothing I can do to stop those forest fires. I am helpless to stop the smoke from crowding into my life.

The smoke makes it hard to see and hard to breathe. I cannot see the happy blue sky and yellow sun. Everything looks grey and stinks.

Sometimes life feels like that.

What should I do then?

Pray.

Trust that God is still God.

And do the next thing.

Perhaps you have heard of Elisabeth Elliot? I learned the concept of “do the next thing” from listening to her teaching. (Here is a link to her teaching)

Elisabeth Elliot was a missionary. Not long into her time of ministry, her husband, Jim Elliot, was murdered by the very people they had been trying to reach in love.

Elisabeth was left in a foreign country with a young baby. Later she was able to befriend and minister to the very people who killed her husband.

Many years later, Elisabeth remarried only to watch her new husband get sick and die.

Elizabeth has written many books, my favourite being “Through Gates of Splendor”.

Elisabeth Elliot once wrote:

“‘Do the next thing.’ I don’t know any simpler formula for peace, for relief from stress and anxiety than that very practical, very down-to-earth word of wisdom. Do the next thing. That has gotten me through more agonies than anything else I could recommend.” ― Elisabeth Elliot, Suffering Is Never for Nothing

This sounds like a wise principle, but where do we see it in the Bible?

I’m glad you asked.

Joseph is one example of this mindset being lived out.

What did he do when his brothers sold him into slavery? Did he protest and fight against those around him? No. He did the next thing.

When he was thrown into prison unjustly, did he sit in the corner pouting? No. He did the next thing.

As a foreign slave turned prisoner turned second-in-command over the entire country, did Joseph become paralyzed by the grandness of it all? No. He did the next thing.

I like Psalm 37:34a: “Wait for the Lord and keep His way…” (NASB)

Joseph was waiting for God’s deliverance, but in the meantime, he lived according to God’s ways while he did one next thing after another.

The next time I find my life smothered in smoke, may I remain diligent to do the next thing while I wait for the smoke to clear.

Might Be Today

Posted on by S. J. Little
Pregnant woman by title: "Might Be Today"

 

Rising from breakfast, I glanced at the small pile of dishes. I should wash them without delay because it might be today.

I reach for the measuring cup I use to water the houseplants. As I give each plant a drink I wonder, “Is this the last time before it happens?” Just in case, I give them extra.

As I hug my husband and tell him to have a good day at work, I remind him that it could be his last for a while because it might be today.

What might be today?

My baby might be born. Being past the due date now, I’m watching and hoping for signs that she might be coming.

In the meantime, we’re doing our best to keep everything ready.

We keep the dishes clean and the pantry stocked. We’ve already set out extra water for the cat and are at the ready to give her enough food to last longer.

The car seat is sitting by the door and the hospital bag is packed.

My husband’s co-workers have been informed and the truck has gas. We’ve even practiced driving to the hospital to be sure we know where to go.

Now we wait.

Will she come today? I don’t know, but I hope so.

Why do I share these thoughts? Because my baby is not the only one who might be coming today.

Jesus has told us that He is coming again. He might come today, or call me home.

Am I ready?

Is my heart prepared for His return?

Have I done the dishes and packed the hospital bag? Or have I let the dirty dishes pile into an unsightly heap?

Am I living as if this life is all there is or am I prepared for eternity?

In Matthew 24, Jesus is very clear. He is returning one day, but no one knows what day it will be. We must be ready for Him at any moment.

“This is why you are also to be ready, because the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.” (Matthew 24:44 CSB)

Likewise, I know my baby is coming, but I don’t know which day. Therefore, I must be prepared for her arrival at any moment.

There is a song that’s been on my mind as I think about Jesus’ near return. It reminds us that:

“It might be today I look into Your eyes. It might be today I see Your face…”  (https://www.worshipsong.com/music/songs/songdetails/it-might-be-today)

Am I ready for His return? 

Jesus asks, “When the Son of Man comes, will He find faith on earth?” (Luke 18:8b CSB) 

Oh, that He would find faith in me and find me ready on the day He returns or calls me home.