Missing the mark

The bow balanced perfectly in midair, the arrow hung in the exact spot necessary to hit the target head on.

The wooded area surrounds, the breeze like a hushed tone in anticipation.

Deep breath.

Pull back.

Focus.

Shoot.

Miss.

How?

Everything was aligned precisely. Everything was calm, everything was flawless.

Except the shooter.

I feel like that's me, sometimes. Everything is perfect, except for me, so things just can't work out sinlessly. There's something that's disappointing. Something that's just missing the mark, if only by a small percentage. There's always something.

Sin actually means missing the mark.

I've been reflecting on how God uses the things in our lives (whether good or bad) to teach us new things. There's nothing outside of the realm God is capable of using for His glory, even sin. That sounds wrong. God can't mix with sin, yet He's mighty enough to even work with that which He is incapable of Himself.

It's like He's the Divine Archer, and takes our arrows to shoot from His own bow, since we just miss the mark no matter what.  Our "arrows" can't hit the target unless He's shooting them Himself.

I struggle not to take credit when He uses "my" arrow to hit a bull's eye. As if I were really the one who shot it, not He.

Foolishness.

I'm noticing my inability to gracefully handle my "calm," my "sanity," my schedule being a bit tampered with. I've had a bit of a cold lately, and so has Selah. Her sleeping through the night isn't always happening as of late, and my need for sleep is only escalating.

I'm also about to make a short trip to Jersey for a few days. I'm thrilled to see friends and family, but I'm anxious about keeping Selah's schedule. I'm scared about what the trip will do to her fragile balance we've only just found.

Mothers of babies all sigh a painful sigh at the mention of a baby getting off schedule. We know this means misery for all.

Finding a lost schedule is like going on a wild goose chase.

But I see something that God might be teaching me through it. It's a comfort, though a prickly, painful one.

In the past, I used to struggle with not wanting to be how I am. I thrive on a schedule and on accomplishing much. I'm driven to do a lot or I feel like a failure. I love staying busy. I love being organized and on point. I used to be kind of embarrassed about that. It makes me unbearable at times, and I even understand why.

I used to want to change. Instead, I've felt over and over again how God does not desire us to change, but to adapt to being who He made us for His glory. His purpose. I can work well for the sake of Him, not for my own sake of feeling good about myself. It's a perspective change. Of course I'm terrible at keeping this perspective, but that's another story for another time.

While God has made me to reflect His own orderly, high achiever ways He possesses Himself (without sin), He has also made me capable of acting on the fly. I must be prepared for Him to mess up my plans and my comfy schedule.

I need to be prepared to respond to what He places before me.

If I weren't I'd miss out on joy, and blessing, and grace.

If I'd never been capable of receiving something I didn't plan on, I wouldn't be a mommy right now. I wouldn't even be a wife right now. I wouldn't be in Nashville, and I might not be much of anything I get to be right now.

In the same way, I can say I'm more patient than I was before, I'm more forgiving, I'm more joyful, I'm wiser... notice the -er ending, no -est ending. I'm a work in progress, clearly, but I can definitely look back and see growth that God provided me due to unexpected changes of plans.

Now I'm on the flip side.  God has impressed it on my heart not to try so hard to change who He made me, but to be who I am for Him, as annoying as my tendencies may be. Now, He's leading me to be more freely able to receive unforeseen blessings in the shape of disruptions in my life.

So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.
1 Corinthians 10:31