I’m on my way to New York City for a few days (and, apparently taking the long way to get there thanks to some flight delays). As Providence would have it, I opened up an old “work” journal I update on rare occasions. To my astonishment, I found the last journal entry was from my 2018 NYC trip (I told you it was rarely updated, didn’t I?!).

After I read it, I decided to share it because I’m in a similar-ish season (again) and God used it to re-anchor me. Maybe it’s for you, too. I pray He speaks to you just as He did to me, even as I sat in a busy airport terminal among a crowd of people.

July 31, 2018

Yesterday afternoon, my mentor said that he was sensing I was frustrated with the pace of change surrounding me. He was right. I was getting frustrated. Not so much with the pace, but with the lack of openness and the natural resistance to change. He said he continues to worry that I move faster than others and others will never move as fast as I do. He told me the same thing about four years ago. Ugh. I thought I was getting better.

He’s right. I do move faster. I am not sure I will ever slow down in my heart; however, what I can do is help bridle the passion and learn to control it versus letting it frustrate me. While I am over-paced in the sight of others, I do believe it creates a healthy tension. Nevertheless, I must ensure I don’t create too much tension and end up snapping the rubber band. There is a balance.

I came home and confessed to my husband, Christopher, that I was struggling. Struggling to know my place. Struggling to know why I am here in this role. And, if I’m honest, feeling a bit undervalued and underappreciated. He’s so patient with me and chose to just listen.

There’s always a way that God creates whispers of truth during those times of discouragement. I was reading Andrew Murray’s book, Absolute Surrender on the plane to NYC this morning, bookmarked by a photo of my firstborn at a week old. He looked so innocent and sweet. As I stared at that photo, I realized how the last seven years of growth have flown by. I kissed him goodbye this morning at 5 a.m., and whispered “I love you,” before I rolled my suitcase to the car. He whispered, “Love you,” and I left for the airport. Seven years later, I’m stunned at how fast time has passed, how quickly he’s adapted, and how much he’s changed (just like the other three!). He has new adventures and those baby toys are replaced by Legos and sweet little love letters he writes to others.

As I ponder it all, I’m sure the Lord feels the same way about my last seven years. They’ve flown by and been marked with growth, struggle, heartache, joy, milestones, pain, love, and new adventures. It’s a beautiful restlessness. I long for the heavenly Kingdom more each day. And, as I was reflecting on all of this, I read this from the book: 

God comes and offers to work this absolute surrender in you. All these searchings and hungerings and longings that are in your heart, I tell you they are the drawings of the divine magnet, Christ Jesus.

{End of journal entry.}

Wow. The divine magnet. This restless heart of mine that stirs and wonders when change will come is really just longing for Him, the divine magnet. This fierce force is helping me realize that the hunger I feel is not for change, it is for more Jesus. It is to find myself – the core of Whose I am – not in the intoxicating riches of this world, but in being an instrument for God’s remarkable work. My perspective must be forged in fire through trial, difficulty, and the words that I don’t like to hear: too fast, beloved.

Pace me, Lord. Steady me. Help my restless heart to be calmed in You. Bring me patience and help me to relax in your timing. Spread the faith that is needed for the change, and help me know the difference between faith and folly. Oh, Lord, rescue me from my own self because I need a Savior. Amen.