Elliott’s favorite thing in the world is apple juice.  He calls it “ackle juice.”  When he asks for it, I’m usually happy to oblige, but the process takes too long for his little 2-year-old patience.  I get out the sippy cup.  He says “Ackle juice!”  I snap in the little plastic spill-proof thingy.  He yells “Ackle juice!”  I get the juice out of the fridge.  He starts stamping his feet.  “Ackle juice!”  I pour the cup 1/3 full.  He starts crying and screaming “Ackle juice!”  I fill the rest of the cup with water.  “Ackle juice!  Ackle juice!!”  I screw on the lid.  “Ackle juice!  Ackle juuuuuuuice!!!!!!!!!!”  By this point, he’s worked himself into a frenzy.  I don’t even want to give him the dang juice anymore and start contemplating how I can discipline a little patience into his heart.  He wants the juice, I want to give it to him, but he cannot handle waiting for me to do it my way.

Um, yeah.  I think that’s how I am with God.  What I want more than anything right now is the baby that we’re adopting, whoever he or she is.  But there’s a process that I have to go through.  I’m screaming “Baby!  Baby baby babyyyyyy!!!!!”  And crying and stamping my feet.  And God’s got a process.  I’ve got to wait on Him.  Because a sippy cup with no lid isn’t going to work for a 2-year-old boy.  And an adoption without the necessary steps isn’t going to work for me.

God, give me patience.  I thought that I learned this lesson.  I keep thinking that I learned this lesson.  I haven’t learned it.  Help me walk this walk, wait this wait, and discover anew a life that is completely dependent on You.

After our long struggle to have Elliott, move to the ‘burbs, start our own company, and fix up our house, it would be tempting to hunker down.  To enjoy the fruit of our labor and above all, keep it safe.  But I don’t want to be a hunkerer.  I’m pretty sure that’s not what God intended for any of us to do.  God’s blesses us with so much, and we need to practice good stewardship, but what does that look like?  In Matthew 25, the parable of the talents, it didn’t go so well for the servant who hid his money in the ground. 

I love safety and comfort.  I love investing in my son and my marriage and feeling the quiet joy that comes with margin, but when my focus is on maintaining and not growing, I get bored, and I get useless.  Every day I hold out my hands to God and open them, palms up.  “God, it’s Yours.  My life, my son, my marriage, our adoption process, our stuff…Yours.”  And so if everything is God’s, then what does He want me to do with it?  Do I hoard it or do I share it?  We are blessed with so much love in our house.  I want to take it out, share it, add to it.  I don’t want to get so wrapped up in staying safe that I fail to see what’s outside of my little realm.  I don’t want to be a hunkerer. 

When I give up hunkering, life gets really exciting.  Where will God take me next?  I can’t wait to find out where He’s going to take me and what He’ll have me do.  Following God truly is the most exciting adventure I’ve ever had.  The first step is opening my hands and releasing my white-knuckled grip on my life. 

God, don’t let me hunker.  Save me from my own notion of safety, and let me feel safe in Your arms, not in my stuff.  I hold Your blessings with open hands and acknowledge that You are Lord of my children, of my marriage, of my home, and of my life.  Take me on an epic adventure and use the little bit of love in my heart to do mighty things for Your world.