Working on my newest project—the nearly year long work in progress—my heart sinks.
What am I doing?
I look at the pile, the evidence of edit after edit. My hand glides over the tender pages—the pages of potential, the pages of rejection, the pages of mistakes, the pages of silliness, the pages of my heart, the pages of heart lessons, the pages of time spent with my daughter and working alongside her, the pages of time.
The tears well up.
Upon closer examination, I ask myself, “Why? Shelli, why? Shelli, why are you doing this?”
Time has been stripped from my family, my chores, my duties.
That wasn’t the plan.
And with all that taken into consideration, my heart begs the question, “What if this manuscript is nothing more than a learning curve?” I shake my head in defeat. Typical me.
And God whispers into my heart—no time is wasted if it’s time spent with me, for me.
I nod. And I know that in everything I do, whether writing, walking, or talking, He wants me. He wants all of me.
Even learning curves are beneficial if I’m learning with God. If in the mundane and simplicity of life, I’m seeking Him, nothing is wasted.
He takes all my effort, all my pieces, all my mistakes, all my lessons, all my rejection, all my potential, all my pages, all my time—all—and molds them into what He’s making out of me, His work in progress.
I can’t see it.
But it’s there.
All the waste, pain, shreds, stacks, pages, plans, spilled ink, spilled tears, tattered pieces.
And what exactly happens when the Master takes hold of all the tattered pieces, the tattered pages, O soul?
We know. It’s nothing new. But we often need a gentle reminder. O soul within, remember—
The Master scripts His plans, His purposes, Himself on the pages of our hearts and works all the tattered pieces, the tattered pages together over His time into His masterpiece—His manuscript—that may only be worthy, may only be beautiful to Him—
Thank you, Father.
“For I know the plans<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-19647A" value="(A)”> I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-19647B" value="(B)”> you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-19648W" value="(W)”> on me and come and pray<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-19648X" value="(X)”> to me, and I will listen<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-19648Y" value="(Y)”> to you. You will seek<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-19649Z" value="(Z)”> me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-19649AA" value="(AA)”> I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back<sup class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-19650AB" value="(AB)”> from captivity.” —Jeremiah 29:11-14