Some mornings you cry in the shower. I guess it's a good idea to get it out of the way while you're still all wet, because there's a day coming and lord knows no one is going to hold the day off just because you ask. Those are the same mornings your hair will look awful and you'll swear you've gained 20 lbs overnight.
*In a singsong voice...overcast by a bit of sarcasm* I en-joy be-ing a girl.
None the less, that day will hit you full force as soon as you are willing to step out of the aforementioned shower. If you're like me (and let's hope you aren't), you will likely spend the morning conversing with God in an attempt to figure a few things out. There won't be a lot of answers--which is good, because you aren't really in a listening mood anyway.
The morning will carry on as normal, because your students are used to the process and you know better than to bring your issues into the classroom. But when you have a free moment, ready to listen or not, God will speak.
"Talents," he'll say and you'll reconsider your notion to audition for American Idol.
Then you'll remember you are now too old to be an American Idol and God wasn't likely to parade you in front of the likes of Steven Tyler anyway. You'll reread Matthew 25 (the parable of the talents) and you'll be reminded of the necessity of faithfulness--with your few things or your many things.
When I got that reminder and read the passage, I needed a little bit of clarification. I was caught offguard by a comment in Matthew Henry's Concise Commentary on the Bible: "It is the real Christian's liberty and privilege to be employed as his Redeemer's servant, in promoting his glory, and the good of his people: the love of Christ contrains him to live no longer to himself, but to Him that died for him, and rose again."
All of my dreams haven't miraculously been granted since I became a Christian. I have been given some pretty great stuff, but there are a good number of things I sincerely struggle with. There are some struggles that are even serious enough to break my heart every time I consider them. But I want to be faithful to share that it is a privilege to serve My Savior.
He doesn't always pull a rabbit out of His proverbial hat for me. But I'm learning to be content with the fact that He doesn't need some optical illusion to convince me that He's the real deal. I mean, the Guy who created the rabbit doesn't actually have to pull it out of a hat, too, does He?
He is faithful when I am not. Another section of Henry's commentary reads, "Those who think it impossible to please God, and in vain to serve him, will do nothing to purpose in religion. They complain that He requires of them more than they are capable of, and punishes them for what they cannot help. Whatever they may pretend, the fact is, they dislike the character and work of the Lord."
Unfortunately, those words were a reminder that I often live my life in that very fashion. I complain because I feel that the road God has given me to walk is too hard. What I fail to appreciate is the fact that I've been given a stretch of road and the feet with which to walk.
It's not simply a matter of gratitude. It's a matter of living out loud so that people have the opportunity to watch and, possibly, to know your Father who is in Heaven. I want to be faithful with this life I've been given. I want to bring Him glory. I want to glorify Him in all I do.
Even when I cry in the shower.