We fast and pray for the Lord to bring men and women into relationship with Him, for men to lead in the church and in relationships, for our hearts to be soft to the Lord’s leading, and for God-honoring marriages for those who desire them.
Transition sucks. There, I said it. When you move or a friend moves or when you aren’t dating and all your friends are starting to, when you decide to throw your whole life into academics again or when you lose your job–the movement from one era to the next leaves me feeling unmoored and a little shell shocked.
I am a post-griever. As crazy as packing everything up and starting something new is, I can hold it together. It’s when I get on the other side that I stumble. I cry. I look back and ask, did I make the right decision? Suddenly, instead of the winds of change that gently move me into something new—it’s a giant freaking storm. Tornados. (I live in the midwest now.) Hurricanes. And, rapid-fire lightning.
Maybe you’re not the one in the transition, but you feel like your life is a stagnant pool. No breeze. No change. Everyone else is moving in and out, and you’re stuck. You’re stuck emotionally/spiritually or vocationally or in that ubiquitous non-existent dating life.
Where is Jesus during those times? What’s He up to?
He is the anchor—and the anchor holds.
He’s in that bit of energy you have left to pray before you fall asleep. He’s waking you up in the morning. He’s the one giving you even a small burst of joy when you see a friend’s shiny new left-hand accessory. He’s the one giving you a glimmer of hope to go on one more blind date. He’s the one who keeps stirring the waters when your life feels like a dammed up river. He’s the one calming the storm—or at least keeping you afloat.
1 Colossians 1:15-19 reminds us:
He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For by him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him.
And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together…
For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things.
As you pray this week, remember that the one you’re praying to is holding you, your life, and your plans in place. He’s in the process of reconciling everything—the tough, broken, turbulent, or lifeless things—to himself.