I Can Only Imagine…
Before attending my uncle’s funeral 2 years ago I remember listening to the song “I Can Only Imagine” by Mercy Me only to catch myself in the realization that my uncle no longer needed to imagine. The thought brought me a great deal of joy, peace and thankfulness for the love that God has for his children. That knowledge stuck with me as I said good bye to two more family members the following year and it has been a lingering thought on my mind this past week as I struggle to come to terms with the death of a young woman from my church.
I can honestly say that it has always been my desire to be a missionary. It has always been my desire to live a radical life that is completely wasted on Jesus. In fact it has always been my desire to give everything, down to my very last breath in service of my God. For years I desired it and I dreamed it but I did nothing to move towards actually obtaining it. I did countless hours of research about missions organizations, missionaries, nations, needs and objectives. That’s how I found out about the World Race in the first place.
If you’ve met me or read any of my other blogs then you are probably aware that I am not a spontaneous person. I don’t act on impulses, I plan, consider and weigh alternatives. Eventually, if all seems well, I make a calculated decision. I do it because I live in fear of rejection and I feel the need to control everything in order to ensure that I don’t offend or disappoint anyone. It’s a terrible way to live and life is much to precious and short to waste away in a fit of indecision. We serve a God who is capable of keeping us from falling, who loves us and desires to see us prosper.
Imagination is a gift, it helps us unlock our potential and gives us permission to dream. But a dream does not become a physical reality unless we pursue it. And, I dare say, we cannot pursue a dream unless we are aware of our identity in Christ and the awesome power of our God.
There is a major difference between laying in bed telling yourself wild stories about what could be, might be, but probably never would be and actually getting up off of that bed, seizing the dream and taking action. At camp they said it this way, “we have decided to be the ones telling the stories of Gods power, not the ones hearing about them.” When I applied for the World Race that is the decision that I was making.
Our dreams grow pale in comparision to the reality that God would have us living just as our comprehension of heaven is weak and lifeless when set against the actual glory of God.
Compared to reality imagination is severely overrated.
