This has been a rough week. There, I said it. My emotions, my spirit and my determination have all been flat. I have felt the weight of oppression resting squarely on my shoulders. I know that the enemy would like nothing more than for me to stay right where I am, pulled up to the table at my own little pity party, impotent to act on behalf of waiting kids and wallowing in the muck and mire of the enormity of the task before me. I am inadequate for the task at hand. I am incapable of casting the vision that God has laid on my heart. There is no way that I can move anyone to adopt.
I’ve thought a lot about Moses this week; about his inadequacies and how he told the Lord all about them. His story is marked with miracles; laced with highs and lows, successes and failures, sin and triumph. God gave him a vision and in spite of his frailties allowed him to soar and literally change the world. I love thinking about ordinary men and women; people that God has lifted out of the mundane and set purposely on the road to a higher calling.
I know that calling; I know it deep in my heart and down to the very depth of my soul. I have heard it whispered breathlessly in my ear as I’ve cradled struggling babies and sensed it in the quiet grief and loss that define foster care. That call has resonated somewhere in the recesses of my being in times when I have felt all alone and have wrestled with my own fears and failures. The call is there. The equipping is there. The provision is there and the Provider is there. I need to be ready and available; open and longing; excited and engaged; hopeful and anticipatory. But I do have to move. I do have to put my faith into action. I do have to get my feet wet and my hands dirty. And as I do, He will continue to move in ways that awe and perplex me; encourage and captivate me and push me further and further into the supernatural adventure He has set before me.
Dream Big. Pray Bold. Stand Firm. Press On.