It had been a stressful month. After moving to a new city and into a new house, everything that could go wrong had gone wrong.
My cabinets weren’t acceptable, the stove wasn’t what we’d ordered, the master tub was nicked, the lawn people hadn’t measured properly for grass, the air conditioner was clogged, the tub wouldn’t drain, the wallpaper hadn’t been hung properly. Just one dilemma after another.
As I stood looking out the back window on a Sunday morning, I was hosting the mother of all pity parties. Stress oozed from every pore. My head hung low. I wanted to run away from home.
Why couldn’t doing God’s will be a little easier? Was I even doing God’s will?
Suddenly, something sparkled in the grass. It was so brilliant, just like a diamond, going from red to purple to orange to green.
Reluctantly, I let go of my anxieties and studied the sparkly thing. What was it?
Not a diamond, of course. It was a drop of dew. A simple drop of dew, glimmering in the sunlight, sending me a signal, straight from the throne of God.
Stop over-stressing, each sparkle seemed to say. You’re getting on my nerves. Don’t you know I love you? Always?
As sure as the dew bathes the ground each morning, I am here for you, longing to bathe you in my love, my mercy, my kindness and my compassion. I am here to give you strength and wisdom and guide you with my eye.
I know where you are. I’ve seen you moping about the house for days, stressed out, going insane, wondering why doing my will has to be so complicated.
But don’t you know I inspected (and approved) every one of your problems before they occurred?
I knew about the cabinets, the nicked tub, the clogged air conditioner, the stopped up drain and the hundred other unexpected difficulties you’ve encountered in the last 30 days. (Yes, I even knew about the sagging wallpaper ordeal. Really, I did.)
I knew about it all, Gayle, and I okayed it all. Why?
Because I knew you’d come through it—stronger, tougher, more resolved than ever in doing what I’ve called you to do.
And I have called you, Gayle. Don’t ever forget that. You are a chosen vessel, hand-picked to be exactly where you are, doing exactly what you're doing.
My ways are perfect, child. All things—and I mean all things—work together for good to them that love me, to them who are the called according to my purpose.
So stop the pity party, please. The things you’re worrying about are temporal anyway. Wipe your eyes, blow your nose and get yourself dressed for church. They’re depending on you. And so am I. ♦
Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done.
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