“The enlightening of a dark soul or the lighting of a kitchen fire, it matters not which it is, if only we are obedient to the heavenly vision and work with a pure intention to the glory of our God.” ~Amy Carmichael, 1951
One of the first things we all learn on the Race is that ministry rarely ever looks like what you imagine it will. There is almost always a disconnect between the ideal and the actual.
Some months my team and I are surprised by the amount of fruitful work we do and other months we find ourselves wondering if we are making an impact at all.
Here we are. Month 9. Honduras.
The excitement builds in a whirlwind of color.
Gradually, mysteriously, the color bleaches out.
All I see now are white walls of opportunity. I look down and realize that my bucket is all out of paint. I’m stuck. Everything I thought this month would be is wiped out and I’m running on empty.
I have nothing left to offer.
I see. I hear. There are so many needs. So many lost people. Yet somehow, I feel stifled and helpless.
I keep asking myself what’s wrong with me. Quickly, gently, God points out the pride in my inquiry.
It’s not about me. He wanted to point the walls a different color. One I had no knowledge existed.
He reminds me of my calling to intercede.
I see. I hear. I pray. Amidst the screeching in my mind, I pray.
When everything else goes wrong. When all I do and all I am seems to scream failure, I have a direct line of contact to the most powerful being in existence.
The Great I Am.
This past week, I’ve had the opportunity to reflect on what He has done for humanity.
He defeated the most powerful force of nature known to man. He overcame the permanency of death.
Surely, He is sovereign over what I see as the dullness of day to day living. Certainly, He can overcome the smallness of apathy and discontentment.
I rest in my frustration and boredom because I know He’s doing more than I can see. I’m exactly where He wants me.
There is joy in the simplicity of shoveling, cleaning and cooking. There is meaning in the change of plans that causes me to sit in a house full of people and fall at His feet.
If all I did was what I’m “good” at doing. If all that happened in my life was earthshattering. That would be truly exhausting.
Sometimes, we need a little emptiness in life so that we learn to call upon the Lord and rely on Him to fill up our paint buckets with a new, unknown color. A brand-new shade of joy we would otherwise have never known.
It’s not about us and what we see we can do. It’s about what we can watch Him do in and around us. It’s about marveling at the colors He wants to paint on the walls.
Next time you find your paint bucket empty, don’t exhaust yourself searching for the shades of color you lost. Wait patiently.
Stand in awe as you discover the new shades of joy He desires to reveal to you.
Then paint the walls to your hearts content.
Show the world His limitlessness.
