Yeah, You Probably Have

Have you ever been in a tough place, and couldn’t come up with a way out? Yeah, me too.

Have you ever just tried to “make the best of it”? Yeah, me too.

Have you ever felt yourself losing your resolve and determination? Yeah, me too.

Sometimes I believe this is the story of my life. Not that I feel sorry for myself—well, maybe sometimes I do. But I have to wonder if this is really the plan God had for me—never knowing what the next day will bring or what I can do to make things better.

Common sense would say of course, do whatever it takes to assure a secure future. So I try one thing or another, but my results aren’t what I hoped.

It can get mighty hard.

And I can get mighty discouraged.

In fact, I can get emotional, and withdrawn, and even depressed.

And then it happens.

Somebody, somewhere says just the thing I need to hear. Maybe it’s just a word of encouragement. Maybe it’s a sermon or a song on the radio. Today it was a verse someone posted on Facebook:

Matthew 6:34 Take therefore no thought for the morrow; for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

Wow! There are so many fantastic things about this. First, it shows me that God knows that I’m struggling and need encouragement. Second, He responds at just the right time. Third, somebody, in obedience to God, and without ever knowing if anyone will hear, has reached out in a way that helps me.

That third one is the one that spoke to me today. Somebody did the thing God gave them to do, without ever knowing if any good would come of it.

That sounds a lot like my life. God has put me where I am, and he has a purpose for it, even if I never know what it is. When He wants things to change, they will. I have to be prepared for that when it comes, but for now, I need to be content with the thing He has given me to do today.

Perfect Timing

Sometimes it is surprising how the simple things can be such a blessing. It was just a bit of color, but it caught my eye. The blinds on the window of my lower level apartment were usually tightly closed, but it was spring, after all. I was craving some sunshine. So for a little while every day, I opened my blinds to the world. I’m sure it wasn’t there at first. Having a window at ground level, my view wasn’t very impressive, so I’m sure I would have noticed. When I finally did, it made me smile. I checked on it daily, cheering it on as it grew and developed. It wasn’t too long before it was covered with tiny florets of bright yellow, and I was thrilled. I had to have a picture of it, and now, a year later, that photo still gives me a happy feeling inside when I see it. Maybe none of you have ever harbored fond thoughts for a weed, but it was a little bit of sunshine during a difficult time for me. It could have sprouted up anywhere, but, instead,it was firmly rooted right in my window-well. I started thinking of it as Sunny. Sure, it was only a weed, but I recall someone saying a weed is just a wildflower nobody intentionally planted, sort of a rogue wildflower. Others have referred to them as “volunteers”. I believe my little Sunny was a volunteer with incredible timing. When you’re working afternoons, you are entitled to sleep later into the day, unless, of course, the grounds crew decides they are going to do the trimming under your window at 8 A.M. with an extremely loud, gas-powered weed-eater. Every single time they showed up, they used the dreaded trimmer, whisking away anything that dared to rear its dainty little head in the wrong place. Sunny must have been watching for them to leave before he allowed himself to sprout from the ground. He had to be cautious and wise, because he had a job to do. Once sprouted, he grew like a… well… like a weed. He must have practiced some form of stealth for I’m sure he escaped the trimmer once. He kept me company for a good 3 weeks, waving at me through the window. Rain or shine, there he was waiting for me and putting a smile on my face at one of the darkest times of my life. Then came a day when I looked out my window, expecting to see my little buddy, only to find…nothing. The grounds crew had finally gotten him. At first, I mourned his passing, but then I thought better of it. He may have been the only weed on the property to have survived past infancy. He lived a good long life, and he accomplished the job I’m sure God put him on this earth to do. I hope when my life comes to an end, others will speak as well of me.