Praise the Lord for the last few days of rest and remission.
The Thanksgiving celebration and weekend gave way to a near infinite number of reasons to be grateful and mesmerized by the goodness of my Heavenly Father. Paling in comparison to those blessings around the table and the handful playing in the backyard, it is important to note the number of quail that fell from the sky during the two-and-a-half-day holiday week, transferred to the dinner table on Thursday. And it is still important to note that a season was lovingly predestined for me to manage it. What He sees in my capacity is absent from the canvas and the success in my ability to carry out the mission is anyone’s guess, except His. I remain nothing without Him and will forever be in debt until I’m home.
By His grace alone, there is enough wisdom in between my shoulders to know and understand that when the tap is open, it’s not by chance or some stroke of luck. Likewise, when the faucet is turned off, a personality difference is not the culprit. Every ounce of it is God ordained and God breathed. Every mountain is sovereignly planted, every door divinely opened, every pathway purposely directed, every stone deliberately set and every piece of clay intentionally carved. He is the Good Shepherd, the Most High, the Rock of my salvation, the Restorer from the pit of my own trespass, the Shelter from the storms in my life, the True Light and the Everlasting God. May this body be completely spent exhausting it all for the Gospel.
