Each year, as a church, we start the year with prayer and fasting. We begin the year seeking God’s heart and vision for the upcoming days. There have been seasons of life that fasting has been something that I’ve been able to fully pour myself and focus in, and there have been times that I know the Lord has called me to walk out obedience and fast and see what he’d like to do- even though I felt very pulled and scattered in a hundred directions.
This year has been the second of those two. I feel like, in so many ways, I’m in the middle of something big but it’s not clear what it is just yet.
There are blessings and curses to being a visionary. You see the big picture sometimes but the daily steps seem daunting. But when it’s a challenge to even see the big picture, we visionaries kind’ve don’t even know what to do with ourselves.
I know some big picture things the Lord has planted inside of me. Our family has been on a road of brokenness and healing over the last 6 months. I know some very clear passions that Jesus has placed into my heart- things that I’m supposed to be sharpening regularly. But truly the demands of life have me a bit baffled on the best ways to be sharpening anything right now, to be honest. I can begin my day with a whole lot of plans, but just keeping the wheel spinning consumes most of my day- and many times I’m not quite sure what the spinning amounted to more than simply consoling a crying babe, taking trips to the potty over and over again, fixing some food and washing some diapers. There’s more there, but it’s not super visible at the present time.
A lot of what we as moms are called to do, whether we are the dreamers and thinkers or the doers and planners, is like dropping a grain of sand into a pail a day at a time. We wait and watch with anticipation for at least a tiny mound to grow into something special. It’s a lot of doing, but the turn around can come years and years down the road. There are seasons that feel more like this than others. It feels like so much work goes into moving that grain of sand each day. It can seem like so much has happened yet there’s visibly, so very little to show for it. That is one tiring part of the process- waiting on some visible returns that are surely, according to God’s promises, going to be showing up any day.
Maybe it’s the dreamy culture we have been surrounded by, or maybe it’s the downfall of every visionary, but we tend to always be pushing towards something bigger. Bigger dreams, knocking it out of the park in a new way, finally conquering that thing, doing the impossible, making it happen…
I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately. A lot about where I find my worth and what I want to call these years I’m living in right now. These aren’t the middle years of building towards something else. We aren’t one idea away from breakthrough.
These are the primary years. These are the years that I’ve really got to make count. These are the moments that add up to all of my kids’ memories. These are the precious, fleeting seconds that I’ve been given to enjoy the love of my life. These are my peak physical years. These are the sparkling, discovered gems born out of yesterday’s heartfelt, broken, face-planted prayers. I’m looking at the promises of God walking all around me; Living and breathing, making messes and fighting with their siblings, learning about life and love and healing and truth. It’s all unfolding grain-by-grain right before my eyes; my confused, visionary eyes that are doing their best to live for more than the big picture.
If you and I were given one year to make our lives count, we wouldn’t focus at all on where we’d find ourselves in a year, what kind of huge things we would accomplish before that year was up, or even how many places we’d see. We’d not worry at all about what image we were forming or what movement we were beginning. We’d take our hands, and look hearfeltly into the eyes of those we love, and see just how we could add some value to those lives. We’d see how we could plant seeds of faith inside of those we love. We’d tell them the stories that had shaped us and inspired us. We’d stop living for our list of to-dos and start jumping in somewhere on someone else’s list to serve them, because being near them would feel far more pressing than our own list.
I’m not really sure what all that means, other than, this visionary is in the middle of something bigger than herself. God is putting some pieces together, but they’re just blurry right now. All she knows is, she’s supposed to stop striving so hard to build the dreams. She’s supposed to stop working so hard to make all the things happen. She’s supposed to stop counting her worth by her checked off list. She’s supposed to be held by her Savior right where she is, and she’s supposed to hold those in her care, right where they are.
We are in the middle of something over here. We are moving grains of sand and it’s got to be moving the unseen. We are in a process here, and it may seem small. but each one of these drops are surely trickling down into a mighty waterfall that just can’t be seen from this far upstream. Yes, we are in the middle of something.