When Things Appear On Hold

Today's guest post is from Karen of Finding Rest. I'm so excited that our paths have crossed and thrilled to introduce you to her here. I encourage you to visit her blog and poke around when you're done reading her post here {and leaving a comment to help her feel welcomed ;)}...

On hold. 

Sometimes that’s how life feels in this young family stage.  Everyone else appears to be moving.  They’re working toward something—a ministry, a dream, a passion, an art.  And me?  I’m standing still. 

I fold another load of laundry after I empty another load of dishes.  Where is my life going?   Is this what it’s all about? 

 

I cried to God my frustrations.  “I’m so tired … and so bored … and so restless … and so frumpy … and you’ve given me so much.  I am grateful, God.  I don’t want to complain.  But I am afraid.  Is this all you have for me?  Is this really the abundant life you promised?”

 

He whispered, “Karen, this isn’t wasted time.  These days are shaping you for what is to come.” 

Shall what is formed say to him who formed it, “He did not make me”? Can the pot say to the potter, “He knows nothing”?

Doesn’t the Potter know what He’s doing? 

I began to consider.  What if all these moments—the twice daily sweeping of floors, the making of dinner (and I don’t like to cook), the packing of lunches and shuttling to and from baseball—what if they are, in actuality, my training?   

I cut up apples and pare away seeds.  I lather sandwiches with peanut butter and nutella.  I rehearse spelling words and teach personification.  I do it because I love and my children need, but am I still growing?

Does the clay say to the potter, ‘What are you making?’ 

I wonder, if our days are about the working out of our salvation, can He not use the mundane days too?   Days when it appears we accomplished nothing.  When we’ve picked up toys eight times, wiped down counters and fingers and noses, read books, made beds, helped with homework, played choo-choo trains, served three meals and two snacks, and filled sippy cups only to refill them again.

Are there wasted days with God? Isn’t everything orchestrated by Him for His purpose?

Last year when He asked me to let go of a job I loved, I knew it was because He wanted me for something else.  Because God doesn’t operate in the aimless.  Everything He does is with intention.

I’m ashamed to confess that I had some assumptions, some expectations, on God.  If He would ask me to sacrifice something I loved, He wouldn’t reply with stroganoff, soapy baths, and Windex.  He’d offer another adventure—one that seemed as dynamic as the last—another opportunity that would knock my socks off. 

 

But the Potter is revealing things to me every day.  He’s quietly reminding me that even the wait is growth.  Even the simple is a part of the working out of my salvation.

My days lengthen, and I’m deepening friendships and making new friends, something logistically challenging a year ago.  With less noise and less competition, I’m honing in on God’s voice with less effort.  The hum of my last job is no longer the background noise drowning Him out.  I am less fatigued, less divided, and less guilt-ridden.  And I’ve started dreaming again, which invigorates me. 

 

Today it might seem like things are going nowhere.  Like everything is on hold.  But it’s not.  You are the artwork of a Masterful God.  He doesn’t abandon His creation and leave you neglected, dried and crusty, on the spinning wheel.  He’s forming you even in the day-to-day, simple, seemingly mundane of your day.     

 

O Lord, you are our Father.  We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.      

 

About the writer:

Karen Yates lives in southern California and is a blogger, homeschooling mother, adoption advocate, and non-profit consultant. With a passion for the global Church,  Karen’s heartbeat is international missions and helping the marginalized in the third world.  She writes at www.KarenEYates.com about living with purpose.  You can also follow her on twitter: @KarenYates11.