I write to sort through my feelings and to clarify parts of the Bible I don’t understand. I write because it’s my heart’s desire.
Most important, I write because I believe my writing is part of God’s divine plan.
Yes, our writing is a part of God’s plan. Like Noah gathered animals to house aboard the ark, we write stories, blogs, plays, and other forms of the art to obey God’s command.
Obeying the God who releases the rain from the clouds helps us to grow as writers. He gives us a safe space to express our feelings. He helps us to understand his Word better. He instructs us how to best use our heart’s desire.
Let’s do as Noah did and commit to write everything God commands.
Genesis 7:5 (ESV)—And Noah did all that the Lord had commanded him.
Proverbs 16:1 (ESV)—The plans of the heart belong to man, but the answer of the tongue is from the Lord.
A caption caught my attention while I browsed photos telling stories of Frank Lloyd Wright. The simple landscape photo, part of an exhibit in the Monona Terrace Community and Convention Center in Madison, Wisconsin, showed a field with cows in the foreground. According to the caption, Wright pointed out to the landowner that the cows in the foreground made the view of the grassy field better.
The same can be said when we fix God in our foreground. The plans of our heart transform from a flat view of a grassy field to a field with a clear focal point. The next steps of God’s plan for us become more evident.
Before we take our next steps, let us seek the Lord’s wisdom. When we seek his wisdom, we can hear his voice and discern his purpose. Then we can move forward with God in the foreground to guide us.
Hebrews 2:1 (ESV)—Therefore we must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it.
The soft brush of stringy tentacles wrapped around my leg; it was as if I’d run into a spider web, only I was knee deep in the Atlantic Ocean. Cue a shudder.
Deep down I knew the source of the underwater creature, but still my mind said, “Please not a shark!”
At another bump against my leg, I plunged my hand in, grabbed the offending entity, and flung the seaweed away from me. Toward the other seaweed floating in the waves, not to mention the seaweed along the shoreline.
The unknown creatures of the (knee) deep can cause us to lose our grip on reality. The little bumps in our journey may make us feel lonely. Maybe we question God’s purpose for our struggles because our worst fear came true. Or maybe the little fears have us dreaming up the worst-case scenario (nothing like seaweed to make your brain scream, “Jellyfish!”)
Our deep-down truth, though, is God has paid for our salvation. This message moors us to God. Loneliness is a human emotion, but in these moments we can talk with God as did Job and Jeremiah. Struggles happen, but God uses them to refine us and achieve his plan. And fears, love banishes them, so if we have God’s love, we do not have to fear.
The evidence of God’s love and plans surround us. The truth reminds us to not worry about the creatures living deep down in the unknown. We can toss away our fears like a handful of seaweed and trust in the knowledge that he has saved us.
James 1:6 (NIV)—But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.
My husband and I walked the trail to Rainbow Falls in the Great Smoky Mountains, unsure of the exact location of the waterfall. We crossed a bridge at a smaller waterfall, but, for some reason, we didn’t believe this to be the waterfall we sought. We trudged farther along the trail. Our legs grew tired, the trail seemed to go on and on, and we wanted nothing more than to see this waterfall. Soon, we met with other hikers, who pointed us in the direction from which we’d come.
It’s funny the things we doubt for no particular reason. We wear ourselves out, and it’s as if we’ve been bowled over by a wave while trying to figure out the situation.
If only we’d asked God for wisdom before we began our task. Surely this would save us some stress.
But when we don’t believe at first, we can learn from the situation, find the joy our trial, and still seek wisdom from God. We may be tired, confused, or exasperated, but we can rest easy knowing we’ve put the situation into God’s hands.
Jeremiah 14:10 (NIV)—This is what the Lord says about this people: “They greatly love to wander; they do not restrain their feet. So the Lord does not accept them; he will now remember their wickedness and punish them for their sins.”
It’s fall again! And one of my favorite harvest-time activities is wandering through a corn maze. My hubby and make a night of it—the maze followed by dinner at a local restaurant—or even a weekend break, exploring a new area for a couple of days. (I’ll use anything as an excuse for another adventure!)
We wander each and every path of the maze, searching for the checkpoints. Each trail offers a new adventure to unexplored paths and hours of fun. Sooner or later, the last checkpoint becomes elusive and we have to stop and consider the path we’ve followed and where we haven’t been.
Much the same, the people of Judah lost themselves in maze of their own sins. Even though they repented, they chose, over and over, the path of sin. Though they checked in with God, their efforts were half-hearted and they chose the path away from God’s covenant with them.
If only they’d stopped at a checkpoint and truly considered their position.
God sets out checkpoints to guide us on our journey with him. He gives us time to check in and ask, “What path do I take? Am I on your path?” The checkpoint may be a time of rest, of listening, of a new action, of a step toward God’s path, of solitude, of silence, or perhaps something else. No matter our place in our journey with God, God holds firm to his promises when we choose the path he sets before us.
Jeremiah 8:4–6 (NIV)—“Say to them, ‘This is what the Lord says: “‘When people fall down, do they not get up? When someone turns away, do they not return? Why then have these people turned away? Why does Jerusalem always turn away? They cling to deceit; they refuse to return. I have listened attentively, but they do not say what is right. None of them repent of their wickedness, saying, “What have I done?” Each pursues their own course like a horse charging into battle.
Before traveling to Iceland, my husband and I watched a comical cartoon video about driving in Iceland. One of the most memorable parts was a car running into a sheep and the sheep toppling over the car. Another part of the video detailed the blind crests and curves, showing one car crashing into the back of another. The important message came through: use care when driving and know the rules of the road.
Charging headfirst into Iceland without this knowledge speaks of disaster waiting to happen, and I can reliably inform you that sheep do roam freely around every bend in Iceland and tourists do stop their vehicles in the middle of the road to catch of glimpse of the sheep and the scenery.
I can imagine Jeremiah 8 as a cautionary video montage of dead bodies lying in the sun, statues of gods falling on top of people, the leaves of fig trees withering, a mass of people clutching their stomachs from hunger, and the voice-over repeatedly saying, “Repent! Ask, ‘What have I done?’”
Yet the people of Judah ignored God, instead stopping in the middle of the road to gaze at their foreign idols, among their other sins. They did not truly know God’s law and did not ask him to explain.
As God’s people, we can ask God how we ran into a sheep in the middle of the road. God wants us to ask, “What have I done?” and to repent. For when we ask, when we study God’s word, when we meditate on it, we receive answers and can stand up again and return to walking God’s path.
When the river tips over our kayak, God remains with us and plans to rescue us.
Jeremiah 1:7–8 (NIV)—But the Lord said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am too young.’ You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you,” declares the Lord.
When I travel, I avoid certain activities. Kayaking, because I’ve tried and failed at it twice. Ziplining, because I’m afraid of heights. Diving, because I can’t breath through a snorkel tube, let alone whatever breathing apparatus diving requires—not to mention I sink like a rock in water.
I choose whether to do these activities on the basis of my feelings, both physically and emotionally. By not doing them, I feel safe and calm, which is important to me.
Yet these challenges don’t compare to those to which God calls us. At times, God calls us to situations we’d rather ignore even though we’d rather feel safe and calm. Perhaps God calls us to reach out to a friend even though we’re socially awkward. Maybe he plants the seed of an overseas mission trip in our mind when we’re afraid of flying. Possibly he asks us to give more generously than our budget allows.
Scary? Yes!
Uncomfortable? Absolutely!
But God doesn’t call us to watch us squirm in discomfort. He calls us because he handcrafted a plan for us, a sometimes awe-inspiring, sometimes awkward, sometimes easy, sometimes frightening plan. When God calls, and we answer yes, he promises us his presence. He stands with us, and he wants to rescue us in his time.
