I read the following words this morning:
To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven;
Eccl. 3: 1-10
Joy is so hard to come by these days. It's seems as though everyone, myself included, complains about the very things that prepare us and grow us in our walk through this foreign land.
This land is foreign we seem to forget we're strangers here only passing through and yet we settle in thinking this is our world.
The days of our lives are in the hands of God. The sleepless nights with crying babies are from the hands of our Lord. The grace to keep silent when I want to scream is only there because He helped me. When I don't do what I know I should do He's not surprised. He is God and He knows. I hide from him like Eve hid from Him in the garden but He calls to me. He knows what I've done and He wants me to come stand before Him.
We all want control and we fight for it like a fish fights the line of a hook and bait but ultimately the results of all our endeavors are completely in the hands of God.
It's comforting somehow to know that this very morning and this very day has been ordained by my Father. I can rest. I can smile when things seem overwhelming or frustrating. It is a season but I'm slowly learning that it's not the season necessarily, it's what I learn during the season that matters.