It’s not like we haven’t discussed it. We’ve talked about it at length. I’ve explained (repeatedly), how it works. We’re partners, see. He’s in charge of big stuff and special occasions… but day-to-day, I’ve got it covered. If I’m stuck I’ll be sure to dial H for Holy Spirit, but it’s easier and simpler if we mostly do it my way. In fact, I’m being very unselfish. Freeing Him up to help er – whales and things.
Except that He’s not keeping to His side of the bargain. Because this is definitely not where I’d planned to be.
We’d agreed that I’d have a successful career. I was meant to be confident and feminine. A church or home group leader. A ball-breaking home-maker, godly, well-read and with a killer line in traybakes. Most of all, I was meant to be a mum.
But beyond the crossword addiction, my CV’s looking a little bare . I’m not blonde and I never did learn to play the cello. I tried to work part-time in a clothes shop, but didn’t have the stamina. I’ve been hanging with the grannies at the digestive diseases unit, not dancing up a storm in the big smoke. I’ve got two cats, not two kids. So what’s going on?
Instead of setting me free, my expectations have enslaved me. I’ve got an idea of what life should look like – success, happiness, family life…and when the pieces are missing, I’m tempted to fall apart too. I say I’m trusting God, but often that trust goes hand-in-hand with certain conditions. Yet grace is sometimes most powerful in these disappointments. It’s as my idols fail, that I see the beauty of the real Lord. As my efforts are shown up as worthless, I’m actually set free from performance. I realise that God won’t be controlled or manipulated. That He serves me – but in His time and in His way.