on soul rest and how the dreams change
Seth and I have been considering Africa, which I imagine you’ve gathered if you read here much. What would it look like if God were to call us to live there, not to be missionaries, but just people living out gospel there as we do here? What would it look like to be prepared to go, as we all should be? When we asked this, it seems a flood of answers rolled in – answers to prayer, answers to how, answers to heart conditions.
While the list of things to do in one area grows – like spend a few years here living out Gospel, praying, and getting out of considerable debt – the list of things to do in other areas shrinks before our eyes – like make major home improvements, take fancy vacations, get nicer furniture, and save, save, save for the future.
This sounds like a terribly uncomfortable move, doesn’t it? Well, you’re right. It is.
I’m working harder now than I ever have, and though I battle fear and exhaustion and an over-active imagination daily, I have never experienced such SOUL REST and a letting go of tomorrow.
Imagine with me a soft bedroom edged in pink, the frills of finally girl, my Ethiopian daughter. Imagine her with me in a sling, bouncing as I sing at church. Imagine her beautiful face.
Ah, but we canceled our adoption – for now.
Definitions change. Dreams change.
God is faithful to change dreams, to make Himself the Vision – His nearness, His voice, His Face. And I’m finding that when the End of my Dreams is God, rather than God being the means for my dreams, I become encapsulated by Him. Storms rage on, but I rest in smooth anchored boat, God-hands cupped in protection around my heart, and I learn to love His hands and even the winds that blow me into them.