Something that I have always struggled with is waiting. Being patient. Not speeding up the process.
I easily see my life as a map. I am at point A and I am working towards point B. I just want to get to point B, and so I pour everything into getting there as fast as I can. In that I forget to enjoy the journey. I recognize the progress made to point B, but instead of rejoicing in that process, I focus on the fact that I am not where I want to be yet.
I once gave this advice to my ministry contact in Ukraine, (a very type A- “let’s go, let’s go” man),
“Stop and smell the roses!”
And now, I am learning to take my own advice…
I feel like, for the first time in my life I am finding joy in the process. I am actually enjoying the ride. I am present in the moment.
Last week at the Adventures office, we had a 24 hour prayer and worship meeting. I spent about 2 hours painting on a canvas with acrylic paints. I had no idea what I wanted the final product to look like. I just started putting colors on blank space. I had no desire to “finish”my painting. I was just enjoying the movement of the soft brush against the coarse canvas. I found delight in the way the colors blended into each other and created a vibrant rainbow.
As I stepped away from my painting to let it dry I was filled with a sense of peace. Not because what I had painted was beautiful and completed, but because I had found beauty in the journey and fully enjoyed the experience.
I have been hearing God tell me that it’s about the journey, not about the finished product. That a life with Him is not about getting to the end, but being present in the fullness of His love in every moment.
We are running the race to win the prize, we are pressing on towards the goal, we are focusing heavenward. We do have a “point B”, but we are walking hand in hand with our Maker all the while.
“because by one sacrifice he has made perfect forever those who are being made holy.”
-Hebrews 10:14
This verse leaves me in awe. We as God’s sons and daughters, perfect in his sight through Jesus Christ, the only true sacrifice, are being made holy.
We are holy.
We are perfect.
Being made holy.
Being made perfect.
My head doesn’t get it. But my spirit resonates with it and sings songs of thankfulness.
I am perfect in His sight, just as I am, in the midst of my process. My Papa sees me in this moment and delights. He sees and rejoices in my life. He sees where I will be someday. He knows how good point B is.
And His joy does not come from me as a finished work, but in me as His daughter.
Which ironically is His fiinished work.
His beloved.
