Michael B Linton

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Ahhh, deja vu...

Remember the feeling after church camp? You were excited, you were pumped, you were storming Hell with a water pistol, and you promised to God and everybody that you were going to take your Bible to school with you that fall. You came back Saturday, slept all day, then had a service at church on Sunday to remember, relive, and reinvigorate.

Then Monday came.

You still had chores, you still got in trouble with parents, and you realized that you weren't really looking forward to the impending arrival of school. Maybe you had a job to go back to. Somehow, the Jesus high got lost in flipping burgers or cleaning up after someone else's brat kid.

I just had the pleasure of reliving that experience.

When we learned last week that we were approved for Fall Creek Elementary for our services, I was pumped. When we had a meeting of our LAUNCH Team Saturday night, I was excited. Sunday came and I was able to tell people what was happening and that things were speeding forward.

Then Monday came.

I still had to work, I still had troubles with people, and I had no clue how all these wonderful plans were going to work out. Somehow, the church planting high got lost in delivering pizzas and teaching someone else's brat kids.

But here's what I know:

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear nothing, for You are with me." Psalm 23:4

This is no shadow of death!! These are everyday struggles. There are some tense moments of stress, some problems to be worked out, and some logistics to puzzle through, but this ain't staring death in the face.

Therefore, we push forward, resting in the assurance of the green pastures of God's provision. If he's got my back when death comes messing around, then I know He's got me with something as mundane as living. We simply wait on him to provide.

Even when reality dashes our white-hot excitement with a frigid bucket of blah.

1 comment:

Versa said...

A voice from the past ... that was well written, Michael. I understand. It's the struggle that gives meaning to the 65 hour weeks.