working out the kinks

In response to my last post, I'd like to say that GOD IS WORKING out the kinks. :-)

Of course it is difficult when you really really realize that you aren't in control of everything around you (Sometimes, at least I...but I'm sure everyone, we convince ourselves subconsciously or consciously that we are in control of the things that are happening in our lives. But that is in fact a lie, and so when reality hits, even when you know the truth but maybe aren't quite accepting it, it can hurt a little). But I know that in view of eternity, I would rather relinquish control to God and trust that if I follow where He leads, the outcome will be great...than try to plan my own future and have to spend the rest of my life cleaning up the debris.

And so, in redirecting my life (from where I was taking it), God has sort of begun to close a relationship, continue a few old ones, directed me to quit Turkish lessons, brought up an opportunity to practice teaching a little bit, and is reminding me that I am doing this all for HIM.

I can really say that I've sort of forgotten it. Like, I'm so used to living here in Georgia now and doing all this stuff, that I sometimes think that it's "just my life". Which is true, but it's "just my life...which I AM LIVING FOR HIM." And I really think I'd better wake up and live in that knowledge every second of the day.

So, I guess there are a lot of changes happening in every area...whether it's a change of schedule or a smack of understanding. And I really thank God for all of it. I'm so glad that God is not just "God up in heaven"...but that He is God in heaven, and He is God in my heart, and He is God who understands what it's like to be a human, and He is God who LOVES us unboundedly. Really.

And a story that I read from a book & posted a while ago...but that is worth being reminded of:

"I need oil," said an ancient monk, so he planted an olive sapling. "Lord," he prayed, "it needs rain that its tender roots may drink and swell. Send gentle showers." And the Lord sent gentle showers. "Lord," prayed the monk, "my tree needs sun. Send sun, I pray thee." And the sun shone, gilding the dripping clouds. "Now frost, my Lord, to brace its tissues," cried the monk. And behold, the little tree stood sparkling with frost but at evening it died. Then the monk sought the cell of a brother monk, and told his strange experience. "I, too, planted a little tree," he said, "and see! It thrives well. But I entrust my tree to its God. He who made it knows better what it needs than a man like me. I laid no condition. I fixed not ways or means. 'Lord, send what it needs,' I prayed, 'storm or sunshine, wind, rain, or frost. Thou hast made it and Thou dost know.' "