Have you ever felt jealous of God’s choice of someone to fill a position you wanted? I have.
Have you ever felt disappointed because God chose a different path for you than you wanted? I have.
Have you ever felt angry because God allowed someone inferior to you to become your boss? I have.
I think everyone has felt jealous, disappointed, or angry at some time or another and yet I doubt any of us would have concluded we were calling God not very smart. Well, maybe I must confess I did realize it at the time—now that I think about it.
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I leaned my head against the window as the plane began to ascend.
How long will I have to fly alone? I thought to myself, as I pushed my head harder against the window and felt that familiar tinge of loneliness. Another long flight by myself. Another lonely night in a hotel room. Another weekend of ministering to women, yet still feeling the burden of doing it alone.
Even when you’re ministering to a room full of women, it can still feel lonely, and even overwhelming.
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What image comes to mind when you hear the words fixed or unchangeable? What emotion do these words bring up in you?
The image that comes to mind for me is the insurance commercial with crash dummies. In the commercial, the car careens toward a fixed cement wall, and you feel your body bracing for impact. Then, the inevitable happens: the front of the vehicle crumbles against the wall, the airbag explodes, and the crash dummy is tossed around inside the car—resulting in the immovable object destroying the car and “injuring” the dummies inside.
Or maybe when you think about unchangeable, you remember a time, like me, when I had to scrap the plans already in motion for our women's groups to accommodate the plans being made for the whole church—resulting in discouragement and frustration over what seemed like inflexible and unrelenting disregard for our team.
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Yesterday I unexpectedly found myself by a lone bench on an empty oceanfront. A boat was just off the shore, solitary but securely anchored in the sea. I ached with the unexpected beauty, the symbolic solitude of the boat. I felt like this boat. Alone, aching, but securely anchored. As I stood there, I thought about the last two months and how a crisis can set off a whole new cycle of grief and loss.
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My strong-willed daughter turned two and I braced myself, expecting increasing challenges in her behavior. However, Zoe sailed through that year with a lively curiosity and mostly content demeanor. That wasn’t so bad, I reflected to my husband as her birthday approached. What’s the big deal with the ‘terrible twos’? Then she turned three.
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