Waiting and shaping

"All things come to him who waits - provided he knows what he is waiting for." Woodrow Wilson

I wrote a poem about five months ago and I just stumbled across it. It's dark and dreary. Depressing, but with a thin sliver of hope shining at its conclusion.
It's where I was half a year ago. Desperately clinging to God but not knowing when I would feel conviction in my faith again.
It was a dark and dreary time for me. Depressing, but with a thin sliver of hope.
I was happy. I loved my family and life, but spiritually I was plodding through, just trying to make it.
I accepted Christ into my heart at the tender, innocent age of four. I believed, wholeheartedly. I never doubted. Not once, not for years. When those doubts surfaced in my twenties they came at me like hungry beasts, wanting nothing more than to destroy my faith, destroy me.
I'm pretty tenacious, though. When I make my mind up to do something, I do. I made up my mind to cling to what was left of my tattered faith and determined to see that spiritually dry, dusty place to its end. I knew it would end. I hoped it would be soon.
I also knew when God saw me to the end of it my faith would be stronger. My passion for Christ more centered and mature.
These last few months have been a fabulous time of growth and clarity. I understand most of the why's and I accept God had a plan for all I went through. I'm glad for it. I'm glad for that desert. I learned more about myself and Him during that time (of course, everything I learned I can now only see in hindsight. I certainly wasn't experiencing it during the time) than the preceding twenty years of  immature Christianity I had previously known.
Before I entered that place I had asked God to increase my faith. It took me a while to ask Him that because I had always heard stories of people asking for an increase in faith and finding themselves facing various trials and tribulations. I didn't want trials and tribulations. I didn't want pain so I never asked Him to increase my faith. I thought I was safe but trial and tribulation came my way, regardless. I figured, about eight years ago, that I could face trials and tribulations without an increase of faith or with. I decided to go with an increase and braced myself for what I assumed was an inevitable coming of hardship.
Instead, He covered his face and I felt as though my faith was lost.
Now, though, I see.
I see where I had been and where He wanted me to be.
I see that the faith I thought was strong and built on a foundation of stone was only the wandering roots of a child's declaration.
I see a faith that had not really been tested, tried or shaped.
It was a child's faith and I wasn't a child any longer.
Jeremiah 29:11 says, "For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
God alone knows the plans He has for each one of us. We can make our own plans, even prayerfully, but the truth is that none of us can read the future. Only He is there. Only He is weaving our beautiful picture of life and He knows what we need, when we need it, so that we can see that picture finished.
He knows the plans He has for my life and, because I love Him and am faithful, He knows what needs to happen in my life so that I can finish that race marked out for me. (Hebrews 12:1-2)
Again I turn to Jeremiah.
In chapter 18 God tells Jeremiah to go to the potter's house and there God will give Him a message. Jeremiah goes and, although scripturally these verses were directed at Israel, I believe they are appropriate for all Christians.
Jeremiah obeys God and goes to the potter's house where he sees the potter shaping the pots and vessels. The potter was working on one particular piece but Jeremiah saw that it was marred. It wasn't perfect. It wasn't suiting the needs of the potter. Maybe it had a hole in it and would leak or maybe the surface wasn't smooth enough and was ugly. Maybe the handle was twisted or weak or maybe it just wasn't turning out right. Whatever the reason, the potter decides to start over and use the clay to form it into another pot "shaping it as seemed best to him." (Jer. 18:4)
That's us. Sometimes God looks at us and thinks, "Not yet. She isn't ready."
He takes our life in His hands, and because we have given ourselves over to Him, He is able to mold us. Twisting, pulling, patting, pressing...we feel it. Every bit of it but in the end we become a vessel exactly formed into what He wants. Because we were shaped we are functional, beautiful and useful. Because we were fired we are strong under pressure and we don't crack. Because we were glazed we reflect Him.
My shaping may not look like yours. Every person, their personality, calling and situation, is unique. God crafts each of us into a different vessel to be used for different purposes but, if you want an increase in faith, you will be shaped.
If you aren't your faith will remain limp, insipid and immature.
I normally don't share my poetry. It's too personal and raw, but I'm posting this poem I wrote five months ago because it so aptly demonstrates where I was.

Crows, out of nowhere.

Dirty, greasy, bug bitten

Where from?

To peck, with pointed beaks

Ever hungry for that which I

can hardly afford to sacrifice

A piece, a peck, a small scrap

Screeching banshee

here to steal my life

that which sustains my soul…

my breath.

What hinders these dark creatures?

The figure standing still?

Not stuffed is he.

Not a straw man, dumb and mute.

But living sacrifice, love manifest

To scare away the crows that steal…

Destroy.

He is here. To chase the nightmares away.

I'm not there anymore. 

Thankfully that figure has always been with me. Even when I couldn't see Him, He was there covering me with His grace and shielding me from darkness. 

"Do you not know?
   Have you not heard?
The LORD is the everlasting God,
   the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
   and his understanding no one can fathom.
²⁹ He gives strength to the weary
   and increases the power of the weak.
³⁰ Even youths grow tired and weary,
   and young men stumble and fall;
³¹ but those who hope in the LORD
   will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
   they will run and not grow weary,
   they will walk and not be faint."

                                 Isaiah 40:28-31

Needing...

I'm a mom.

I'm a perfectionist.

I'm entirely too hard on myself and suffer bouts of extreme self-loathing.

Mix all these things together and you have a woman who is driven to be needed.

I want my kids to need me.
I want my husband to need me...actually, my husband does need me, but not as much as I want him to need me.

I want my family to need me.

I want my friends to need me, which isn't very fulfilling because I only have about six and they are all adequately self-reliant.
I want my church to need me, though I don't really want them to capitalize on that need because I'm too busy.

I even want God to need me.

I'm a little embarrassed to admit this but I kind of always thought God did need me.

I'm not sure why I thought this, but there you have it.

Maybe this insatiable desire to be needed is a result of being the eldest child. Maybe it stems from this odd feeling of responsibility I feel over every person and every circumstance. Maybe it's just part of who I am.

All I know is that I was absolutely STARTLED last Sunday driving home from church, because it struck me...God doesn't really need me! Can you imagine? I almost had to pull the car over. I glanced in the rear view mirror and assured myself the girls were sitting in the backseat. The few moments I couldn't catch my breath after discovering God didn't need me (the audacity!) I wanted to reassure myself my children still existed and were still young enough to need me. They were there, both with their heads thrown back and mouth open in the unaffected sleep of children. So they were there, but at the moment they definitely didn't need me.

I turned my attention back to the Lord.

"Are you sure you don't need me? For anything?" I asked.

I don't like to boast (well, I try not to like boasting at least) but I'm quite talented. You should see what I can do with nothing but a cast iron skillet and a chicken breast. Or give me a word and I can craft an entire world from it, entertaining toddlers for hours (maybe only minutes, but it feels like hours). I'm convinced I can do anything I set my mind to unless it requires an instrument in which case I'm happy to turn it over to my husband, Shane.

You can understand why I was surprised God didn't need me.

But then it struck me, like the proverbial lightening rod sent from heaven, there are millions of people in the world that are talented. Much more than I. Millions of people that are strong, dedicated, smart, powerful, charming and passionate. I'm just a tiny like guppy. Not much of anything, really. Sure, I can cook. I can write, make jewelery and organize. I'm a good mom. A fair wife (working on that) and I think I'm a fabulous friend (I only have six, though, so maybe I'm not that great of a friend...)

But those things don't really matter because there is always going to be someone else that is more than I can ever be. Also, at the risk of sounding obvious, He is God. He can fold the earth in on itself with a snap of His finger. He can blow the stars out with just a breath. Why would He need one insignificant SAHM from southern Ohio? Why would he need anyone?

I sat in my car, ready to pout and sink into a full-blown pity party, when God rescued me from myself.

So still and quiet I just barely heard it above the hum of my engine and the snore of my three year old, came that little whisper I've grown to love.

"I may not need you, but I want you."

What a privilege! The God of the universe, the one that created the sea and the sky and the planets and LIFE wants me!

Me!

Being wanted is so much better than being needed.