One of my jobs each week is getting the bulletin ready. It’s less of a program for the worship service and more like a newsletter. In trying to find something substantive for the back page, I ran across an email with a piece reprinted from Rick Warren. He quotes Habakkuk (which is one of my favorite little books) and makes the statement, “Even as you make a decision to follow the dream God places in your heart, you can expect a delay.”

When God does that, every bit of faith I mustered to take that step, to follow that dream, gets pitched right out the window. If God would tell me up front, “Now it’s going to take five years (or ten or twenty) before this all comes to pass,” I’d be all set. He never does that though. He expects me to trust Him. From beginning to end. Without constant reassurance.

I don’t have to be reassured that Jesus is really giving me eternity in heaven. I don’t have to be reminded that God is omnipotent. So what’s the difference? Me. That dream, that assignment began in God’s mind and is a part of His plan which cannot fail. However, I often fall into believing the success rests solely with me now. The pressure mounts to make it happen.

God never tells me I have to bring His plans to fruition. One reason for the delay is to make sure I understand that it isn’t about what I can do for God. It’s about seeing God’s purposes fulfilled, getting to be there when it happens.

The other thing I need to grasp- quoting Rick Warren again- “A delay is not a denial.” If things don’t fall in place after what I think is a reasonable time, I take that as a sign I’ve done something wrong, God is displeased, and I’m being benched. God has a timetable and His purposes will always be accomplished. Always. A promise is a promise.

If I trust God with my eternal soul… surely I can trust Him when it seems things aren’t working out the way I thought they were going to. It sounds so simple when I type it out. I’ll keep working on it.

I’m watching an indoor track meet from Madison Square Garden, hoping to catch sight of my nephew, Josh. He’s a collegiate runner and also competes in the race walk. I’m just barely a runner, mind you, but his walk time of just over 6 minutes is almost half my run time for a mile. Ah well.

Watching the meet, I understand why Paul used running a race as a metaphor for the Christian life. I have teammates, coaches and trainers, but ultimately, it’s my personal race. It’s my responsibility to train, to condition myself, and to work through injuries. Most of that preparation is done alone, depending on my own self-discipline. If I slack off even a day, it may cost me. It’s important that I eat right and strength-train. I need to be equipped with the right shoes. I have a course laid out before me, and it’s critical that I stay on track. My finish depends on it. I can’t get distracted by what other runners are doing. I can only run my race well.

Josh runs cross-country, too and in some ways that’s a better picture of this race we’re in. The runners get individual times but the team does better when each runner performs well. As we run our races well, we encourage those around us to finish strong.

In 2009, I only ran a few months before it got too cold for me, so I have yet to reach that point real runners talk about when they feel like they could go forever. (I had no trouble getting to the ‘I hope this is not a heart attack’ point.) This Christian race, though, I’m running to the very end.

We have a running ‘joke’ at my house- If I’m awake, I’m sleepy. It comes from perpetually getting up too early and staying up too late. I honestly try to get eight hours of sleep and most nights I hit it pretty close, but I think my body needs nine or so. My alarm is set for 4:40 (yeah, I know) so I’m right there with my littlest one, ready for bed at, oh, 8:30. Ah 8:30. I wish. It’s usually 10 or so before I get to sleep, so I operate at constant sleep deficit.

I get spiritually exhausted too. There’s so much stuff to do in order to ‘do’ church, it’s easy to forgo spiritual rest. If you forgo rest long enough, you burn out. Believe me, I’ve been there. I don’t think that’s what God ever intends for us.

Here’s what I’m learning and changing.

1. If it doesn’t bring joy, I avoid it. Jesus promised His yoke was easy and His burden light. If I’m dreading some activity or if a ministry is sucking the life out of me, it needs to go.

2. There is no limit to what could or even should be done, but I am limited.

3. I need to minister, but I also need be ministered to, although not necessarily in equal measure. We had a fellowship not long ago, and I just had to show up. I hadn’t helped plan it or put it together. I just got to enjoy it. That was so refreshing. One of those every now and then is a real boost!

4. Two words – “Good enough”. This is freedom from perfectionism. I try to do the best I can with everything, but sometimes you have to cut yourself some slack.

God didn’t save us for nothing. He saved us for a purpose, a unique kingdom work that we alone can accomplish. God doesn’t leave out there floundering, or spinning our wheels. He equips us for that purpose.

Jesus says in John 15:16 hours before his arrest, “You did not choose Me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit, and that your fruit should remain, that whatever you ask the Father in My name He may give you.”

Here’s my paraphrase: I am specifically, individually chosen by Jesus Christ to fulfill a particular kingdom work of eternal significance, and the Father will supply whatever I need to accomplish that task.

This means I have worth.  I have purpose and I cannot fail.

Two disclaimers- 1. I am not special. That verse applies to you as well.  2. My failure is not necessarily a ‘purpose’ failure.

How do you find your purpose? Ask God. You can ask yourself some questions to bring His answer into sharper focus.

1. What Scriptures really touch your heart? Is there a common theme? A purpose could be in there somewhere.

2. What excites you? Makes you angry? Makes you cry? These are the things you’re passionate about. Purpose doesn’t come without passion.

3. Are you doing anything now that you can’t imagine NOT doing? If I had to give up writing… my sanity would be next to go.

I’ve said ‘a’ purpose more than once, but here’s where I weasel out of it. Our Purpose (with a capital P) is to be conformed to Christ. However, I believe God gives shorter term purposes (little p) that help us get there. Those purposes grow and change as we do. For instance, I don’t think writing was my purpose in college. It’s hard to say what it was then. I’m pretty sure I missed out on it, though. But these days, I write all the time.

Finally…

There are no BIG purposes and little purposes with God. They’re all equal.

This is not meant to cause stress. If you have peace about what you’re doing, you’re probably fulfilling what God intends. Restlessness and dissatisfaction may be a nudge in another direction.

I don’t typically post on Wednesdays, but as part of Kelly Langston’s Authenticity Challenge, here we are. Each day I’m discussing what I believe is a key component to authentic faith and how I’m working on that in my own life.

On Wednesday mornings, I’m privileged to lead a ladies Bible study group and this week we looked at Psalm 78. The psalm details God’s interventions on behalf of Israel and their sins against Him in spite of it. In the middle of the Psalm are the words “For He remembered that they were but flesh”.

Frailty. It is common to all of humanity, but accepting it, even embracing it is unique among believers. I struggle with depression and have all of my adult life. It wasn’t until I admitted that this was something I couldn’t solve myself, that healing began. Grace and mercy in time of need became a daily reality rather than an abstract theological concept. I got real with my friends, and they’ve walked this road with me. It’s been bumpy at times. I’ve taken medication for 5 years and I’ve seen a psychiatrist and a therapist for close to 4 years now. Last week, my psychiatrist cut me loose. I’m managing well enough to go off medication. I still have quite a bit of work left with my therapist, but that’s another story for another day.

On Monday I mentioned that there is no place for shame in my life any longer, so frailty is nothing to be ashamed of. My weaknesses are just avenues for God to display His power and His strength. The more I acknowledge those weaknesses, the more He can work through them. However if I hide them, deny them or try to fix them myself, I tie His hands.

Frailty isn’t a justification for inaction. It’s a determination to persevere anyway. Just because I’ve owned one frailty doesn’t mean this is easy or even natural. I still fight it every chance I get. I don’t want to be “frail”. I do want to bring glory and honor to God. And frailty does just that. 2 Corinthians 4:7 explains “we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellence of the power may be of God and not us.”