Author: Jackie

Have you ever wondered why you’re in a certain situation? Filling a specific role? Walking the pathway you’re on?

I like to suppose I’m not the only human who has wrestled with these questions… and I really don’t think I am.

This morning as I prayed before facing the new day, I was asking God all of that.

“Why me, Lord? I’m not able to fill this role as well as I should. This calling needs someone greater. Why didn’t you choose someone older, with more experience?

“I’m so unsure how, God. I have no knowledge to go on. Why did You choose a novice like me?”

God doesn’t always whisper His answer to our hearts, but this time the message was clear. I understood why it was crucial that it had to be someone inadequate for this place.

“Because you don’t know how of yourself. Then you ask Me.”

My heart was soothed as that realization sank in.

If I’d have years of experience… all the ideas in the world… a college degree… would I lean on God as my sufficiency?

Would I go to Him, as I do now, to say,

“Lord, I don’t know how to fill this role. Will You just work through me?”

He selected me because I don’t know how! He actually desires that I let Him guide me… He’s not asking me to do the job well and show Him what I know.

Some things are complex enough that only God has the skills and wisdom to work effectively.

He needs His inadequate servants in those places…

Because when we reach the end of our own resources, we depend on Him to work in us, for us, and through us.

He chose me, in my inadequacy, so that my emptiness could be filled with His Adequacy!

Nothing of self, Father, fill me with Thee…

Only Your vessel allow me to be.

You only can work all things for our good,

Lord, I am Yours, to serve as I should.

I drove in the once-familiar farm lane. The garden where I once sang, prayed, and worked the hours away was covered in snow, but I could envision my teen self there again.

I passed the building where the visitation was taking place. It seemed so still. I knew that no energetic white-haired lady was directing a squash washing episode inside today…

As I parked my car and stepped out, the sunlit scene appeared so normal. As though five years hadn’t passed at all.

In a flash, memories flooded back. A vibrant, “Well, Hel-LO!” rousing me from my deep thoughts, and she would be right there. Beaming smile and willing hands, ready to dive in and work alongside me.

She loved how the quietness of her little golf cart allowed her to drive right up behind a person before calling out a greeting. Every time I was startled, and every time I shared her delighted amusement before settling in to work together.

I never could keep up to her, but she didn’t seem to mind. She only declared how grateful she was that I could help her busy daughter in law with the workload that summer.

She lived life enthusiastically and loved to create a good time. Yet she was also very compassionate, always sensitive to the needs of those around her.

I felt completely at home with her son’s family, but I didn’t know what my role was to be when she came over. However, she simply adopted me as one of the family, and I soon learned that she always had room in her heart for people.

One morning, when she brought the mail over as she did every day, I heard her ask, “Is your girl homesick? She seems to be enjoying it, but are we taking that for granted?” She was concerned by the amount of cards and letters my friends were sending me.

I was glad to clarify that I was loving my time there.

When the new baby arrived, I was responsible for two little boys who wanted “Mamaaaaa!” to come home… and something in me wanted my mom, too. The door burst open earlier than usual that morning as she entered with a cheery “Good MORning! I wanted to make sure I come early enough to tell you that you don’t have to make lunch. I have a roast in -all you need to do is pack up the boys and come over! We eat at 12. You’re doing an excellent job of everything, but this time I’m going to give you a break!” She trusted me to take care of her little grandsons… yet she also was grandmothering me.

Over the years, her face would light up in pleasure when she saw me at church, and we would always reconnect. She never lost interest in the young woman I was becoming, long after she met me as an insecure teen girl.

I crossed the yard slowly, and I could hear her singing in her extensive flower garden again… laughing joyously at whatever tickled her with amusement at that moment… voicing appreciation for my help with her yard work.

I blinked back the memories as I stepped into the little building.

Everyone she loved was gathered.

She had been the center of all these people… it felt like any moment, I would spot her in the group, flitting from one person to another, enthusiastically welcoming each one.

But as I paused to view her earthly body, the truth came to me clearly. “She is not here.” She was painfully absent, a fact written on the faces of those present.

My heart ached for them, yet swelled with joy when I thought about where she is.

She’s not here… because she’s there!

What more could I wish for a dear friend than to live forever with the King of Kings? Where they have no need of the sun, for God is the Light in that country.

All of the lives she touched will have an empty space… they depended on her. She faithfully served her family. Now she has left to receive her reward.

May we all look to Jesus for our example on how to live, and by God’s grace we can look forward to hearing those words, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant… Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.”

Steaming mug of coffee in my hand, I glance over my desk.

Daily plan. Math book. Red pen. My blush coloured Boss Lady notebook, faithfully keeping all of my notes and to-dos organized in one place.

I light my candle (a gift from a student) and the gentle scent of twisted candy cane floats toward the door like a warm greeting.

Ah, yes. Ready to be the chaos coordinator in grade 4A for the next few hours.

A quiet sound distracts me from the rhythm of my morning routine, and I turn toward the source.

Little boy giggles.

Two brave (and mischievous) kindergarten littles have tiptoed into the grade four classroom. They stand proudly near the door, silently watching me prepare for the day until their giggles spill over.

When I ask if they would like to try a fourth grade desk for size, to get a glimpse of what life will be like in a few years, their eyes grow round and the giggles fade. I can tell they’re thinking, “Grade FOUR? We won’t be there for a LONG time!”

They look around and giggle again, before marching out the door with satisfied smiles on their delighted, innocent little faces.

I watch them disappear, and a smile spreads across my face as I think, “soon my children will all come tumbling in through that door.”

Any child is welcome in my classroom, any age. I enjoy building relationships with students. Some of my most precious moments happen before the 8:55 bell.

But there’s nothing quite like interacting with the students who are mine.

Knowing that I’m responsible for them. To share the excitement about four wheelers, or the disappointment when the newborn kittens don’t make it.

To teach them academics and life lessons.

Also, to soothe their worries to the best of my ability in all areas. Including reassuring them that human bodies do NOT decay until after death, not even if they were to sit still for a very long time. (No, there is no risk of decaying if you watch an entire hockey game. However, exercise IS good for us.)

I gaze over their rows of desks and in my mind, see each of their faces.

Suddenly, I can hardly wait to get started with the new day.

Welcome, Monday morning.

Welcome, new week with my class.

I walk to my podium and let the grin spread across my face.

I’ve found my little niche in this world.

Snatches of music play through my mind. Lyrics of half composed songs I would love to see completed. If I only had a complete inspiration, instead of snatches here and there. Partial emotions. Brief moments of clarity.

“Hold me, God, when the storm is closing in. When confusion swirls around. When I stand on unsure ground, Oh, be Thou my security! My firm foundation, God. And may my heart be still… and always say, “Amen” to Thy will.”

There are a lot of incomplete things in life, too. I expect it will be that way until my life story reaches completion – the picture will contain unknowns until the last piece clicks into place.

Until then…

“I know that God’s gonna take me through every battle He leads me to…”

“Someone’s praying on the shoreline as you’re fighting in the storm. Someone’s asking God to hold you in the haven of His arms…”

“It is the Hand of Everlasting Love that leads me, gently onward each day in His perfect way. He is leading the way through life to morning, someday, where I’ll be welcomed above by God’s own Hand of Love.”

I may not understand everything God’s hand performs in my life… or why He sometimes shows His abiding Presence as a comfort… yet without providing clarity to the questions I have.

I don’t know why His answer is sometimes “Wait.”

But I know this with deep assurance… God’s not letting go.

“God is working in my life, moving mountains I can’t see, laying out a perfect plan He’s designed just for me…”

“God drew my life map, and saw where I’d fear. He marked each place where He knew I’d shed tears. He knew I’d need Him, close by my side… so He planned to be my Protector and Guide.”

When we go through hard things, God is growing us to handle the revelation of His power when He performs His will.

The value of experiencing God in an ever deepening way makes every battle worth it. Anything that brings me to an increased understanding of His greatness is a gift. No matter how painful it may be to recieve.

“There’s nowhere like a valley for faith in God to grow.”

Without challenges, I wouldn’t make progress or grow…

“I wouldn’t know the tender way He stills a troubled soul. I’d never feel His mighty arms sustain me through the night… I wouldn’t understand the joy when storm clouds break to light!

I wouldn’t know how surrender brings a peace that fills the soul… I wouldn’t learn that Christ alone with strength my heart can fill. I’d never know the mystery of living in God’s plan, in trusting faith to take each moment from my Father’s hand.“

Truly, it is the struggles that become sacred and our hard that becomes holy… because when we reach the end of ourselves, God begins.

He meets us there, and we are never the same.

“I’ll praise my Lord in the valley today, I got to know Jesus better this way. I could have travelled an easier road… but walking this way, God carries my load.”

Truly, God’s not letting go.

So I will hold to faith all through my life… I will hold on to Him.

No matter what comes, may my heartsong of faith continue to sing …

“Even now, I’ll hold on, waiting for the promised Dawn… I’ll hold on and lean on You, even more than ever now.”

Because when I rest in Him, there is unshakeable peace to be attained.

Until the songs in my heart are complete, I’ll keep singing the snatches He sends me…

Lines of truth that remind me, He’s not letting go.

I was a student in my Father’s school today.

I stood behind my podium at the front of my classroom, as usual.

14 children sat in their desks, and the 15th child… was appointed as my teacher by the Schoolmaster, even though the child was unaware.

The lesson was on trusting God.

In his typical thoughtful manner, a nine year old innocently taught me a lesson about my lack of ability to trust.

It began with an object lesson used in all school devotions this morning. The dad who was in charge of devotions called his son up to the front.

He filled a ziploc bag with water and announced that he would poke holes into it while holding it above his son’s head. The child was to stand still and trust his father not to make him get wet.

Many people seemed skeptical. His son looked skeptical. I got the sense that a large number of the student body hoped to see him get wet…

Using a pencil crayon, the first hole was made. And… the pencil crayon was poked all the way through both sides of the bag, and left stuck in there.

No water could leak out… the holes were being plugged as they were made!

We returned to class, and I noticed the pensive look on Thoughtful Child’s face.

Sure enough, the hand was soon raised.

“If he had explained it better, it would have been way easier to trust him. Like, he never said he’d leave the pencil crayons in… He just said he’s going to poke holes in the bag! If he had told us more, we could’ve believed him better.”

Whoa.

A 9-year-old innocently called me out on my struggle with trusting God.

I smiled at my student and replied, “I think that’s the real lesson here. God doesn’t tell us how He’s going to do everything either – but He calls us to trust.”

“Ohhh. That’s true.” Satisfied, Mr. Thoughtful sat down.

My mind, however, was spinning.

God hints at what He’s going to do without showing us every detail of the plan. We see the holes in the bag and conclude that we’re gonna get soaked.

But God never said that what we can see is the complete picture…

Those cracks in the plan aren’t really cracks at all. There is missing information that I don’t have access to…

But God has a plan to stop all the leaks.

The holes I see in the road might have bridges built over them by the time I get there!

Last night was foggy again.

I spent an hour on the road, struggling to remain calm, squinting into the shroud that settled stubbornly around my car.

Frustration and fear crowded my mind as I crawled along at a snail’s pace.

Life is full of enough unknowns. The future is completely hidden from view. Couldn’t I have one drive home with clear visibility?! Yes, I was frustrated.

But when headlights appeared right in front of me, approaching with speed, frustration turned to fear. Thank God for good brakes, a shoulder to pull on to, and guiding the other vehicle back into its lane in time to avoid a collision.

My thoughts whirled on. Why was I spared? I have dreams, goals, ideas that I want to fulfill. But what is God’s good purpose for my life?

God shows His care in precious ways.

A conversation with a good friend while walking through a peaceful snowfall was just what my heart needed. The context of our conversation revealed that we both have questions and struggles. We didn’t figure out a whole lot, but we could encourage each other.

I wonder if she realized how much that conversation blessed me. I tried to tell her… honestly, words can’t always describe those things.

I reflected on that as I drove through the fog.

My God revealed His closeness by sending a friend to share with, reminding me I’m never alone.

Even when it’s foggy, God is there. He’s much closer than I may see or feel, because the mist blocks my view…

But if I have the courage to reach for Him. Focus on Him instead of the overwhelming whiteness.

He’ll be right there.

With me.

On New Year’s day, 2023, thoughts of the future swirled in my mind.

This is a yearly occurrence for me, but this year I felt inadequate to think of going forward into yet another unknown year.

I make so many mistakes. I wrestled with the thought that I might fail to be all that I should be… and came to the conclusion that without God, I am nothing.

With God, I can fill His calling for me.

So I asked God to help me grow this year… and I’ve asked Him a lot of other questions, too.

But He seems to be waiting to show me the answers. Instead, He has called me to surrender. Dedication to seeking to know Him instead of spending all my time seeking the answers I think I need.

It feels suspiciously like a waiting room…

But past experience has taught me that when life feels as if it’s on Pause, fighting it won’t change anything. It will only serve to make me more miserable.

The only logical thing to do to avoid frustration & defeat in a waiting room is to find something profitable to make use of the time.

In God’s waiting room, that means talking to Him. Listening for His voice. Praying… reading His word… sitting in His Presence.

This exercise of soul searching has been very revealing.

In fact, the best treatment for my problems has been given in the form of waiting. The Master Physician knows that I need to simply be still.

There’s a mirror in this waiting room… I started looking into it. Asking myself what’s wrong with me that I’m left to sit here instead of getting some answers from God.

As I gazed into my own heart, questioning why I react the way I do to potential challenges I might face in life, I found answers. Not the kind I wanted or even expected… but definitely what I needed.

I don’t need God to fix my life… He already has a perfect plan for it that includes this present moment. What really needs repairing… is myself.

I have ugly things in my heart I didn’t realize were there. Pride. Fear. Selfishness.

Where did I get this idea that things need to go my way? “I’ll be happy if this happens, God, and if it doesn’t, I’ll need You to help me through it.”

What made me think that trusting in God sounds anything like this… “I’ll go wherever You lead me, God, as long as it’s within the vision I have for my ideal life.”

Since when do I care so much what others think? I have insisted I don’t, to the point of taking pride in my self confidence.

True, I do a lot of things out of the box. My comfort zone is really quite large.

But then, when have I ever had to go out of it? I don’t know what that’s like. When push comes to shove… I only go to a certain point before saying I won’t consider this or that. Why?

Because…

“It looks scary. What do others think of me? I have an image to maintain.”

I can come up with all sorts of glossing-over-the-truth excuses. But deep within, fear is the root.

I have to face it… a heart that’s truly trusting God to lead says, “I’ll go wherever You lead, Father. Anywhere You want me. And I will trust You to provide for me.”

I asked myself… is my heart fully yielded?

Answers don’t always come the way we expect.

Certainly not in the gentle, relief bringing way we want them to come. In fact, sometimes the truest answers are the most difficult to face.

These answers don’t tell me anything more about my life, but they sure give me insight to my struggles.

Soul searching is scary. I have new respect for it. But oh, it’s worth it.

Dare to dive into it fully. Intensely. Actively. And be prepared to work with whatever you find… the freedom of a full surrender is found only by exhausting our own will, then opening our heart to God’s.

Seek Him wholeheartedly… He will show you what stands in the way of surrender.

He answers in His own time and way… on a journey which leads to ever greater surrender and openness to His will.

He doesn’t delay His answers… but sometimes we aren’t ready to hear them.

He always answers… and gives courage to do whatever those answers may call us to.

Praise God for answering every heart cry!

The fog was dense around my little car as I drove slowly toward home.

Peering into the whiteness, I couldn’t see more than a few of the yellow lines ahead of me on the road.

Familiar landmarks rose up beside me through the mist, and immediately disappeared as I passed.

So much like life sometimes… knowing so much, yet seeing so little.

I knew I was on the road, and which road I was on.

I knew where I started off, and where I was going.

And I knew that I had to go slowly, because I couldn’t see ahead far enough to slow down in advance for the bends.

Yet I couldn’t see any of those things… I had to rely on what I knew.

I can’t see what lies ahead for me.

I know I’m on the path God planned for me, walking in surrender to His will.

I know if I continue on this road, it will someday lead home.

But right now, it’s really foggy. I have no idea how everything will work out between here and heaven.

I’m needing to slow down so I don’t lose control on the unexpected bends I may face…

To step back. Trust God. And approach life with prayer.

Because in the middle of everything I don’t know, there are facts I do know that are unchanging.

God is good. God knew all of this before I was born. God has already drawn a pathway through it all.

God will never let go of my hand if I keep reaching for Him.

Beneath the waves, His arms are holding me.

I know God.

Wherever God calls me to go, He will go with me.

Wherever God calls me to stay, He will stay there with me.

If I am willing to surrender to His timing, and not try to rush the unfolding of His plan, I don’t need to fear what lies around any of the sudden twists or turns in the road.

Because if I stay with God, He’ll stay with me.

And He won’t let go of me… no matter where I’m called.

So I can relax my grip on the steering wheel, knowing that I will never have peace if I dig in my heels and stubbornly refuse to move in the direction He calls. Fear is not from God, and not a valid reason to fight change.

I’ll keep moving forward, slowly, prayerfully, navigating through the fog.

I don’t know where the road of life may lead me, but I will continue to trust.

I rest in the constant knowledge that in all the things I do not know, God is already there.

If He calls me out of my comfort zone, He will be there.

I will never be asked to face losing all that is familiar to me, because God will never leave my side.

And I know God.