you know those stories. the ones about the girl who had nothing and in her humility was thankful for everything she had. she was content and at peace with the life Jesus had given her and she praised him for his grace in her insufficiency. and he was blessed by her grateful spirit and granted her the desires of her heart, a husband, a family, a home, and said that it was good.
that is nothing like my story.
i was single and worried. lonely. full of complaint and resentment. rebellious and callous.
and Jesus gifted me Jake anyway. replacing my hostility with his holiness.
soon i was married and looking for my purpose. a little selfish and controlling.
desperate to present the perfect picture of family. desperately clinging to a new life in my belly, wrecked and angry when it was lost. and Jesus gifted me with Zoey replacing my inadequacy with his abundance.
our lives had a house but our hearts prayed for a home.
waiting for a direction. a zip code. a plan.
he sold our house. found our land. designed the plan.
because that's the kind of God we serve. one that hears my grumbling heart and blesses it anyway. and the impossible part is when, by nothing but pure miracle, that grace changes me. in a broken world, grace is abused. sacrifice goes unnoticed and mercy is weakness. but because he was more than just a good teacher, his underserved offering changes my ebenezer heart.
and the result is worship. thankful, humble, unadulterated worship.
so as i walk the studded halls of the house that he built and touch each board and beam.
i am sheltered by a shepherd that is building me a home here, and preparing for me a home there.
and today, i worship.