With one word, my Lord could heal me.
With one word, He could stay the floods.
With one word, He could relieve my loved ones from their sufferings.
With one word, He could change the world.
But His ways are not our ways and His thoughts are not our thoughts.
Man does not live by bread alone,
Nor by the miraculous rescue of the body;
Nor the changing of outward circumstances;
Nor by the revolution of everything today.
With His Word, my Lord is healing me.
With His Word, He upholds His standards of justice.
With His Word, He’s liberating hearts.
With His Word, and in His time, He is changing the world.
It’s late, and the home is a mess. There are dirty dishes scattered around the room, and the length of tomorrow’s to-do list, after a crazy-busy weekend, is already beginning to haunt me. A few minutes ago, another stressor added its weight to my shoulders as I remembered a commitment that I missed meeting this afternoon. And the deadline for having this article written will be here in less than fifty minutes. (It’s not always this way, but we’ve had a particularly crazy week.)
Sometimes, I wish I could go back to having fewer responsibilities so I can apply what I know at my own leisurely pace. This desire was evident in the frustrated words I spoke to my husband just twenty minutes ago. I told him that he had to stop pushing me to write (even though I tell him every day God’s calling me to write). I told him that God wanted me to take time—a whole month, even—to just read and study and stop wrestling with the keyboard in the hopes that something truly valuable would come out of it.
As Kyle’s patient response broke into my daydreams of sitting at a window by the bay and studying to my heart’s content, I began to feel ashamed of what I said.
God doesn’t want me to take a break from responsibility. I want that break. I had to repent of my lie, but I still couldn’t help feeling overwhelmed by everything there is to do.