Good Morning, Father - Part 1 - Courage

Sometimes I clean out files and find things I have written and set aside then forgotten. When I rediscover these musings, it’s not unlike finding myself when I didn’t even know I was missing. 

I am going to share, over the coming posts, one at a time, a small collection of devotionals I wrote over a decade ago, titled, Good Morning, Father. In His unfathomable wisdom, He knew I would need these affirmations and faith strengthening words in a future time unknown to me as I typed them. And now the time has come.

May you be blessed with whatever you need.

For Him,

Meema

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Introduction

Sunrise is the renewal of a promise. A chance to begin again, afresh, with all the bad choices of the previous days behind us, every new day is an opportunity to seek to serve God and use whatever time we have remaining to us better than we have ever done before.  We cannot know how many mornings we are granted, but if we make it through the night to see another dawn, we are given the gift of time, at least once more, to get it right. For by the amazing grace of our Sovereign God all the wrong living we have done in the past is forgiven and forgotten in the instant we are willing to surrender and move forward toward Him and His will, relinquishing our own.

Though the days we have wasted cannot be changed, the new one, unfolding in front of us, holds the promise to be the one that could make it all okay.

It’s our choice.

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Courage

Good Morning, Father,

I apologize for yesterday. I don’t understand where it came from but when I looked up in the rear view mirror and saw the police car, I was overcome with panic. Instantly, I did a run down. License? Okay. Seat belt? Buckled. Left turn signal? Blinking. I knew I hadn’t been speeding before I came to the stop light. I couldn’t think of a single reason to be afraid. Then, when the light turned and I went left and the police car went straight, why was I still filled with lingering anxiety? It wasn’t much, really, just enough to give me pause and make me examine what was underneath it all. You know how I am, always looking for the deeper meanings.

I did a mental search through a backlog of sludge; moments of dilemma when I felt I had been unjustly punished or at least hauled up by the short hairs for no good reason. I thought about how fragile and vulnerable we are, sort of like astronauts space walking outside the space capsule. Our lifelines could be struck and severed in an instant by any number of stray hurling space debris. Unfair, unjust. That was it. I am afraid of unjust, undeserved trouble.

But wait a minute, since we can’t possibly avoid seemingly unearned problems in this life, what if the issue isn’t about circumstances deserved or undeserved. Maybe it’s more about how we deal with the mammoth trees randomly felled in front of us. Do we see every obstacle as an opportunity to grow closer to You? Or do we shrink back in debilitating fear feeling sorry for ourselves and cursing our rotten luck? Are we truly surrendered to Your will in our lives or do we just give out lip service and when the chips are down we cave like sink holes? Are we constantly seeking ways to pad our paths with foam rubber so it won’t be bumpy instead of learning what the bumps along the way have to teach us? Do we think we can be held less accountable if we cling to our guilt instead of giving it to You and being done with it?

I guess it comes to this, then, I shouldn’t fear anything at all because I know You are charting my course. I asked You to, so I shouldn’t be forever second guessing Your strategy, should I? So, this must be faith refined to its simplest definition. Believing that You, Father, can do anything You choose to do isn’t really faith. Faith is accepting what you choose for me, standing firm, and not being afraid of what I cannot see or understand. Certainly, my bad choices must contribute to the pot holes in my path, I know this. But even so, I can still trust You to use my stupidity to some good advantage if I remain open to the possibilities and simply trust You as a child trusts a parent.

So, is the absence of fear, courage? 

I don’t think so. Courage must be the willingness to obey and serve You regardless of the rewards. . . or the consequences.

Thank you, Father, for courage.

Your servant,

Meema