So remember the other day when I said I was struggling? Yeah, I thought I had worked through it. Until I woke up at 4 a.m. the next morning in a panic about everything. And the day just went down hill from there. I got a message via Facebook that I had misunderstood the size of the next payment for my mission trip to Africa this winter is due November 12. I picked up another job to help pay for that. I work Monday through Friday as a grantwriter and then Wednesday and Thursday nights as an adjunct instructor at two separate colleges. (That means two separate textbooks, two separate preps, two separate requirements for teaching effectiveness, two separate requirements for everything…) The thing is, I won’t get paid in time for that November 12 date. And by that time our other payment will probably be due. We are trying to figure out a way and time to do fundraising between now and November/December, if only we had time to sit down together and plan. I would lie to say that I know that God will provide. Because Wednesday, I was trying to do crazy math and nothing was adding up. At.all.
Yes, Wednesday, I was feeling a little stressed.
So here’s my confession: I struggle with faith. I struggle to believe that my God is greater than the circumstances in which I find myself. I struggle to believe that God is able. I struggle to continue to acknowledge that my awesome Father loves and cares for me and will provide for my every need. And sometimes a want. I struggle to remember that God has provided for me in the past. It’s easier to say, Oh, I know He’ll provide. It’s much harder to live that out.
And so I find myself at 4 a.m. looking for the God who will just drop the adoption costs and work out the mission trip details in an instant so I don’t have to believe.
I have yet to find that God.
Instead, I serve a God that prompted me to read Psalm 127 before going to bed Wednesday night:
1 Unless the LORD builds the house,
They labor in vain who build it;
Unless the LORD guards the city,
The watchman keeps awake in vain.
2 It is vain for you to rise up early,
To retire late,
To eat the bread of painful labors;
For He gives to His beloved even in his sleep.
3 Behold, children are a gift of the LORD,
I can imagine God laughing as I read that because I was laughing (and crying, too). [In fact, I bet He found that last half of a verse HILARIOUS. Evan did.] See, I was trying to figure out how I would make it all work out. I wanted my clear and easy plan to just make it happen. So I wouldn’t have to have faith. So I wouldn’t have to believe. I could just do it. Without Him.
That’s missing the point, right?
This whole journey – not just the mission trip or the adoption – this whole walk with God isn’t about me. I am a very small part of the equation. It’s about Him. It’s about becoming more like Christ. It’s about growing in my love for Him, my faithfulness to Him. This is the whole point. Less of me, more of Him.
So Wednesday night, after struggling and struggling on my own all day, God prompts me to read that little Psalm. His little note to His daughter that He has this under control. He is using this process to draw me closer to Him. To help my unbelief. To cause me to be more like Him.
Here is my confession that I will hold fast to:
I believe in a God who loves me.
I believe in a God who is with His children on the path He has called them.
I believe in a God who does not want me to struggle needlessly.
I believe in a God who builds the house with His children.
I believe in a God who provides. Always.