In God's Hands

Published on 4 September 2024 at 10:14

Today, I am feeling amazing.

The Lord woke me up at 2:46 a.m. and I got up!!!

I was excited about the day. If He woke me up this morning, we must have a full day planned. In good spirits, I navigated my morning routine eager to spend time with God and prepare for the day.

Regardless of how I think my life should be, the pace I feel it should be going, what I feel I deserve or believe I'm ready for is all of no consequence. It is all in the hands of God.

There is no other option for me but to remain in step with the Lord.

Oh, how far we have come.

The wresting no more.

I have been subdued.

The Father has won.

And now my only posture is on my knees hanging on to God, letting Him know I will not let go until He blesses me. Even beyond that, my prayer is that I never let go.

Where is there to go but God?

All things pale in comparison. There is no other path. There is no other plan. There is no other way but God's way.

I thank the Lord for wrestling me. Who am I Lord that you come to wrestle with that that is no match for you at all. Who am I that deserves all of this care, time and attention?

You have invested much in me. You have poured so much in me. Patient, kind, gentle, stern, disciplinarian yet always love- just who is this great God that we serve?

I am still in the process of finding out who you are, who you created me to be and what you desire me to do.

I am eagerly standing by as the movie of my life unfolds. It's all still a mystery how it will all come together.

But I yield to the Master director of my life.

I trust you with it. I walk in step with you Lord each moment of each day. 

The fight and resistance dissipated.

Nothing left but just me and you for all eternity.

Thank you, Lord, for helping to get here- at peace in contentment with you and you alone.

From Jesus:

You will need to hold onto this for the days to come. Life will get busier, people will now take up space once reserved for us, distractions will abound. There will be much to do. Seek me in the small windows of time throughout your day. Sneak in a hello and I love you. I will always be with you in the rage of the chaos and in the stillness of your soul. Enjoy our time together that we have now. It will not always be like this but know I will be smiling down on you so happy to see that you are able to experience all I've had in store for you all along. I love you, Jennifer. I pray you forgive me for the rough times I've laid upon on you. It was all for your good. I soon hope that one day you will thank me and say it was good that I was afflicted. My heart's desire is that you understand it was all for you and it brings you closer to me.

 

Question of the day?

Are you still fighting and resisting the Lord?

Have you found contentment in the Lord?

Are you at peace and rest with the Lord?

If not, evaluate why and surrender afresh. Your resistance will not change the word God has spoken over you. Accept you are in the hands of God and this is the absolute best place you can be.

The Potter’s Hands: a poem about Isaiah 64:8

By 

 

Yet you, LORD, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand.
Isaiah 64:8

The Potter holds his clay
with hands worn and wise.
Envisioning a masterpiece,
he sees shape under disguise.

He gives the clay a say,
free will, a choice in how to be made:
“Try spinning your own way or
trust my hands skilled in the trade.”

On the wheel, clay must be centered
so emerging vessels stay intact–
revolving life around Jesus
holds people together
and throws off the sin
that so easily entraps.

All clay thirsts for sustenance
to bend and to transform–
pouring water from God’s Word
continually softens and informs.

The Potter sculpts steady
molding from the inside out–
strong pressure reshapes,
gentle caresses smooth doubt.

Taller and wider,
clay expands as it spins–
pressing on to grow in faith
equates to full potential at the end.

The Potter’s work is planned,
methodical, often quiet,
and never rushed.
The attentive Creator
watches formation and
prunes when he must.

Time and trial build a rhythm
of clay’s will in sync,
of understood parameters,
and freedom from what others think.

From dust to purpose,
beauty spins as planned.
Love is crafted by surrender
when clay trusts the Potter’s hands.

The Potter's Hands: a poem about Isaiah 64:8 - A Scriptured Life

 

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