Loving the Promised Land
I’m writing this in a flurry of emotion following a trip to the grocery store. No, I didn’t have a meltdown over the lack of Caesar salad kits (but seriously… again?) rather I had an encounter with God on my way home.
Thanks a lot, K-Love radio!
I broke down well and good, the lyrics “You’re my promised land” ones I’d heard before but ones which impacted me in a new way this morning. You see, I’m a rather task-oriented person. I love goals and have a lot of them, and I’ve prayed over these things. They’re good things.
But they’re not the greatest.
I’ve been near perfect with my Bible reading plan so far this year, but despite digesting 3-4 chapters of God’s word every morning I still felt like I wasn’t hearing from Him. I tried reminding myself that reading the Bible IS hearing from Him, even when it doesn’t give me goosebumps or make me cry or any of those other mountaintop emotions. Because truth is truth, whether it FEELS like it or not.
But still, I wanted more.
Or did I?
My family is currently renting, but I want a house of our own and I want it bad. I want a yard with more than just rocks in it, where I can sit at sunrise and sunset and glory at God’s marvelous creation as the wind stirs the trees. I want a bigger living room with better seating options for inviting people in. And I want it too much.
It’s not a bad desire, but it shouldn’t be so high up on my priority list, especially not when I already have a Promised Land. Right now, I already have it. I have God.
I have a refuge I can hide in whenever I want, and it will never be taken away from me. I have the ultimate object of awe and wonder, not just wondrous creation but the wonderful Creator. And I have a land flowing with milk and honey, His eternal word which satisfies above all else and from which there is always more. Always.
Goals are good. I’ve got spiritual goals and health goals and financial goals and, yes, writing goals. But these are temporal things, and if they’re something I can work to achieve they’re all classified as meager at best.
God has so much more for us, and I want to want Him more than anything else. Sometimes I’m successful at that, but sometimes I’m not.
Sometimes I’ve got my eyes closed and I’m begging for a fixer upper I can put my stamp on, one with a decent sized yard for stargazing and preferably an office where I can write all the words. I’m envisioning what it could be and how I could use it to glorify my God, but I’m missing the incredible view already surrounding me.
The beautiful and incomparable Promised Land.