It is about this time every year that we put a deposit down on a house at the beach for our Summer family vacation. It’s months away, but in order to claim our spot we have to plan this far in advance. So, for a few days in the middle of Winter we let ourselves think about the sandy shore, the hot sun and the pounding waves, and we choose the place, set the date and send our money. That done, we put the tantalizing thoughts of our beach vacation away until early Summer when we will pick up the reins and gallop toward our annual trip to the salty sea.
Thinking of the sea, the ocean, I am mindful of the warnings posted in all the rental homes and cabins on the island that give clear instructions for surviving a rip tide. They all say the same thing: “Don’t fight the current.” It is advisable to let it take you until you can safely begin to swim. This will preserve your energy for a time when you can make headway and give you the best possibility of survival.
Often in our journey with God, the same is true for us. It is advisable not to fight the current of His love. It is His great love that created our context: life on planet earth, in families and communities, at specific times and places. He holds the past, the future, and the present; and, He has an inexorable purpose of kind intention that is unfolding. Jeremiah 29:11 says, “‘For I know the plans that I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans for prosperity and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.'”
What would happen if we truly submitted to the current of His love in our lives? Where would it take us? To whom would it take us? What energy might be ours if we stopped fighting His will for us?
I know you’ve probably seen this on a bumper sticker, but it still rings true: “If God is your co-pilot, you’re in the wrong seat.” If we have added Him to our journey like air freshener for the car, I think we may have gotten things terribly wrong. He called us to follow Him, and He’s the one who empowers us to be about the Father’s business. We are His witnesses, watching what He does and applauding His work.
As our church family is nearing the end of 21 days of prayer and fasting, I find that I’ve been carried along in His love for me. Certain things have fallen away, and He’s adjusting my priorities. I’ve allowed my life to be amended. I quit trying to swim.
Faith is resting in the power of His love to save, to change, and to accomplish His purpose. I’m thankful for the courage to rest in His power, so that I can live a life that brings Him glory and honor.
Until next week, beloved, let His love carry you into the wonder of His glory and grace.