Since putting both feet back in Austin (in February), there’s been one little fiery kernel of truth tying this whole season together: finding all my life, meaning, and fulfillment in God alone.
Most of those who know Jesus also ‘know’ this idea — but do we live it?
I have long struggled to, at least. But this summer I slowly submitted to the Spirit as He unearthed an ugly entitlement in my heart. He showed me that I’d long nurtured a hidden material dream, my own personal alternate to the big rich American Dream (which I laughed at). A certain kind of job, a certain kind of car, house, lifestyle … a nice, compact little life, where I’d have no more problems or worries.
Of course, my life didn’t conform so easily to that pattern when I put my feet back in Austin. What was my response? Mainly irritation, then strain, and attempts at rebellion. I later understood that I’d grown so quietly fixated on this vision that I was willing to discount God’s true (good) provision for me, and flail desperately to get things to go my way. Sigh — so silly.
Anyway, the root issue was that I was believing a simple (and pandemic) lie: that any of those things (lifestyle, job, car, rhythm) could truly have Life unto themselves. No. No. There is only one source of Life. And I know Him. And we who know Him are such fools when we (in our syncretism, and our forgetfulness) try yet again to find Life in any of those other things.
So in this season, I surrendered my cute little dream. I let it die. And then what happened? My life has grown immensely richer, and so much more full of gratitude. This shouldn’t surprise us.
After all: “Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.”