Somewhere, life happened. 20 years of pushing God aside to pay bills and seek a career, I lost Jesus. It happened halfway between work and jump-on-daddy time. But then I tripped over my calling for the umpteenth time and discovered what I’d misplaced: God as provider.
Ever been so atrophied that you don’t move—despite that heart exploding beneath your ribs—toward something better? Paralyzed by angst; vibrating motionless in the face of known resolutions; only to be slowly reduced to a powerless agent on the battlefield?
The shrapnel—bills, diets, yardwork, kids, lost love, spent dreams—it rips the flesh. Gaping wounds, demanding attention, cry out for mortality! And the still small voice is, well, lost.
But what if God really does provide? Would that change things? I’m in the process of finding out. Slowly, trying to purpose release and embrace—losing life to gain soul—in my life.
And it’s in this tiny nugget—you might have missed it, actually—where the flip happened (Funny how God’s changes are typically just small tweaks in perspective). If I don’t have to worry about those things—like bills, food, meaning—then I can focus on the calling. And then another flip happens. In doing what He’s asked of me, the focus is no longer the calling but the voice doing the calling.
Singular focus on the Savior in the maelstrom of life.
Of course, I’m coming at it backwards. You might say it, “Focus on Jesus and the rest will follow”. Either way the exchange is this: When we do what He’s called us to do, He handles the miasma—all that stuff getting in the way. Beyond that, every step we take toward doing the calling systematically equips us to handle the kind of tasks that keep us up at night.
But, of course, that’s another post altogether…