Check out the featured post and read more here: https://www.ibelieve.com/career-calling/when-the-dream-becomes-the-distraction.html
I have a confession to make. I’ve been running from God. Not intentionally, but it happens even to the best of us.
Somewhere between teaching full-time and transitioning into writing full-time, I’ve “busied” my schedule. I’ve filled sacred gaps with more “to-dos”. I’ve chased a million dreams and callings, attempting to fulfill God’s purpose for me. And yet, I’ve forgotten that that pressure isn’t on me. It’s God who will carry out those plans to completion (Psalm 138:8).
God told me to rest, but I acted like it was the eleventh plague. God told me to trust that He would provide in this new season, but instead, I looked for jobs and polished my resume. God asked me to surrender it all, and I ignored the Holy Spirit’s conviction. God gently nudged me to let go of my schedule, but I’ve clung to what I’ve always known. Even as I write this, I’m ashamed to admit these things. But maybe you can relate?
Running While Trying to Obey
Over the last year, I’ve chased dreams and forsaken others. I’ve believed the lie that I’m “too old” to accomplish things deep in my heart. That “I’ll never make it and am far behind.” Satan has convinced me that I need to try and take the reins because surely, God is slow or running behind. I’ve been unhappy with myself. I’ve tried to be someone else. I’ve done more striving than sitting. More comparing than accepting. But this is where it ends.
Here’s the truth: If Satan can’t get into your mind, He will get into your time. What I mean by that is this: If we’re always filling our time with more things, will we ever hear the voice of God? And maybe if we’re honest, that’s what many of us are afraid of. We’re afraid of being alone with God. We’re scared to sit in stillness. We’re fearful of ceasing to strive. We don’t know who we are if we lay our “earn-hearts down,” in exchange for the one who told us to “come to Him,” even if we’re “weary and heavy burdened.”
This past Sunday, I prayed a bold prayer in the silence. I said: “God, maybe I’m scared to hear what’s in the silence.” And for the first time in forever, I stood there and sat in it. I didn’t try to run. I didn’t try to busy my mind. I just slowed. I let the water wash over my face as I breathed in the presence of my God.
Over the next few minutes, an old song came to mind. I smiled. I’ve been struggling to get back into singing for months. I’ve prayed and prayed for God to restore my voice after dealing with mold in our home. But there in the shower, I sang at the top of my lungs.
