Two things about me:
1. I am highly organized; or at least, I think I am. Everything has its place in my house and in my head, and I tend to think in categories. It makes life manageable; it works for me.
2. I think in absolutes. Things are either black or while; period. I get all uptight when they are grey, because I don’t really know what to stand on.
So when it comes to God, I want to do the same. I want to declare, “That’s how He works.” Or, “That’s what He is like.” Or, “That’s what you can expect.” I want little compartments and absolutes; I want to put His ways in neat little boxes with labels on them, like “How God provides,” or “What God does when I cry.”
But God won’t let me. He won’t allow Himself to be categorized.
One time He provides with ravens, another time with water out of a rock, and another time He tells His disciples to go fishing. He had me give away my last potato the day before He brought me a 50 pound bag of the same.
When I am in despair, He sometimes tells me to toughen up, or calls me to repent, and at times He just holds me until I can go on.
When I needed wisdom, He has opened His word to me, and He has also told me to ask for secular help.
When my friend acts in a way that I judge not acceptable, He tells me to get over it.
I can’t figure Him out.
He has a sense of humor, yet He is the most serious one I know.
He is God Almighty, and He can play like a kid.
He is all about life but doesn’t hesitate to kill.
And at times, He is o.k. with grey.
He won’t be put in a box.
He is God.
Deal with it, Barbara.
Cultivating Thankfulness with Ann Voskamp
#143 My husband praising me
#142 My healed knee
#141 A great kickboxing class this morning