1576 Out Of My Hands

Out of a desire to do great things for God, do you ever get a little jealous that some people get to do seemingly bigger and better things than you? Isn’t it funny how our servants heart can get a bit warped in serving and make it more about us than about God?

I’m going to be completely vulnerable here and honest about my twisted heart. I can be in it for the right reasons, then I attach my ego to it and I stay in it for the wrong reasons. If I started it, I want to finish it. If I planted it, I want to harvest it. If I had a part in the work, I want a part in the reward. And if it was mine, then I want it to stay mine. And what God has been showing me is my clinched fist on what he blessed me to be part of hinders the flow of what he wants to do next. And that leaves me to come to terms with what God does next might very well have absolutely nothing to do with me!

Am I the only person who gets attached to their role in a much bigger picture? Is it only me who can feel a little butt hurt when God takes what I have been part of and passes it on to the next person to continue? Nahhh, it’s you too, isn’t it?

What have you been holding on to that God has been asking you to let go of? Who have you been holding on to that God is trying to work on without you?

Will you hold on and hinder the growth, or will you let go so God can take this beyond your reach?

You played an active role for a season, but when the season changes, so does the work. Different work requires different people. Are you okay when God calls a different person to continue the work in a new season?

My husband and I adopted 2 little girls from an orphanage in Mexico. We brought them home with us when they were 4.5 and 6. I had absolutely nothing to do with planting them in this world. I didn’t birth them. I didn’t nurse them. I didn’t rock them to sleep. I didn’t teach them to walk or talk. That wasn’t my role. It wasn’t my season. God used me for something different. I took them to school. I tucked them in at night. I fixed their hair. I taught them to dance. I taught them to drive. I taught them to work. I taught them to trust, to pray, to love.

Now, our little girls are grown and God has shown me this is a new season. As our youngest struggles to find her way in the world and has been away from our family for many years now, I had a humbling conversation with God. He said to me, “Pamela, you won’t be the one who saves her.” But God, what do you mean? I’m her Mama. Why wouldn’t you use me to save her?

I held on so tightly in the beginning it caused more harm than it did growth. I not only wanted to be the one who would save her, I NEEDED to be the one who would save her. Looking back, I realize it became more about me than about her. My ego. My role. My broken heart. My need. Me.

The more I said, “Me, Lord”, the more the Lord said, “No, me.”

One of my spiritual mentors shared the lesson of 1 Corinthians 3: 5-9 with me.

“After all, who is Apollos? Who is Paul? We are only God’s servants through whom you believed the Good News. Each of us did the work the Lord gave us. I planted the seed in your hearts, and Apollos watered it, but it was God who made it grow. It’s not important who does the planting, or who does the watering. What’s important is that God makes the seed grow. The one who plants and the one who waters work together with the same purpose. And both will be rewarded for their own hard work. For we are both God’s workers. And you are God’s field. You are God’s building.”