We were driving down a bumpy interstate across the country about to do a tour, and my family was jabbering in the back ground and I found myself in the back seat reading and thinking. My devotional was life-changing, and the scenery seemed to somehow fade along with the voices as I read:
Our culture says to love a child is to tell him that he is special and unique and that everything he does is wonderful. We’re to give him the impression that our world revolves around him. And we’ve grown up expecting the same of God. We figure if he loves us he will make a fuss over us and celebrate us, only to find ourselves disappointed and disenchanted with God when we discover that we are not at the center of the universe. Instead, the holiness of God is at the center of the universe. His absolute uniqueness and perfection shines bright and beautiful.
After I read this, I debated reading it to the whole car, but instead I decided to reflect and pray about what I was thinking. The next morning I got Dan to read the same thing, and he was equally blown away, so I shared it with the rest of the group that morning. As tears streamed down my face, I expressed my selfishness in the moments that I am angry at the lot given to me.
My life is supposed to be easy.
My dad tearfully responded and agreed that we were raised in an environment where most things could be fixed for us, but the truth is as I journey life as an adult, less and less things can seemingly be fixed the way I expect them to be. I want them my way and Immediately, and yet even after The Lord answered our prayers about Mary Anna, and why yes he did answer them, I still think that each prayer should and will be answered in the way I request.
I remember as we were making the arrangements the morning we awoke to the reality that we she was gone, and I looked toward my parents, and they were speechless. They kept trying to help, yet respectfully step back and let D and I be the parents and handle our baby girls death, and my dad with large tears streaming down his face said, “I just want y’all to know that mom and I are having such a hard time, because we can’t fix this… We are supposed to fix things for y’all… And I don’t know how to make this better,”
That’s what I want. A fixer. An easy button to press. Yet I choose the narrow road. We keep walking down the road less traveled, where there is a fixer who does fix. I promise. The screen is blurry as I type this, because my heart has been burdened to let my King fix me and to stop trying to fix it all myself. This song has been our theme song these past few weeks. I hope you find rest in Him alone, and that you learn to need Him more and more with each passing day.
Who else among the gods is like you, O Lord? Who is glorious in holiness like you- so awesome in splendor, performing such wonders?