Monday God

It's the first Monday of the month, and I sat down this morning and jumped right in.

I did the same thing last month...

and the month before...

and before...

It's not that I don't think about the future, I think about it a lot. I just don't make plans around it. The Future arouses hope and fear alternately, and I will react to it for a day, but I haven't been very disciplined about harnessing the power of hope and dismantling the power of fear as it pertains to the future.

So when I sat down today, I found frustration at the unknown slinking it's way into my brain. How can I plan for tomorrow when I don't know what's coming today? How can I look forward and be prepared? Frustration gives way to discouragement, which gives way to fear, which gives way to hopelessness...

But I'm not a victim!

Then I remembered that I have a foundational belief that God is timeless. It's a tricky theological conundrum that's hard to wrap your brain around, but easy to see the implications.

God knows tomorrow. He's already there.

When I was younger (yesterday) I used to beg Him to tell me the future. "What are my kids going to look like? When will you give me the big check to pay off my student loans?" I was mildly perturbed when He wouldn't answer me. It seemed selfish that He would hog all that wonderful information and not share it with me. I promised not to do anything to change the future and thereby thwart his sovereignty, I just wanted to be able to plan. In my heart of hearts, I assured Him, I was ultimately altruistic and I wouldn't do anything like bet on the world series or pick the long shot at the Kentucky Derby, I just wanted to know what was coming so I could plan for it and not be surprised by the little hiccups along the way. I don't think it's too much to ask.

He didn't tell me who is going to win the Superbowl. Dangit.

As my faith grew up, I realized that there's not much fun in telling the future. As I watch my son grow, I have experienced the great thrill of watching him discover. When Jack sees something new, his eyes pop with wonder and his mouth stretches with glee. It's the greatest thing ever.

I forget that God is Father. He enjoys seeing me discover today. He also enjoys comforting me when I cry, when I scream out at the injustice in the world (mostly as it pertains to me), and when I crumble in a heap on the floor. He's there. He knew I would be there too.

He was there waiting for me the whole time.

So I want to make 1st Monday different. I want to sit quietly enough to acknowledge the fact that God can already see August 31st, and all the days before it. I'm probably still going to ask Him to tell me the future, but I'll be able to smile when He doesn't. I want to hear His ideas about what's coming. He may not tell me specifics, but I think he'll help me find a good path. He'll tell me whether I need to push forward or lay back, whether I need to have the hard conversation or just sit quietly. I think He can help me plan. I think He wants to help me plan. That's how Jesus could say to His disciples, "There's another place we have to go," when He seemed to be cresting the wave of popularity.

So rather than sitting & projecting my hopes onto the uncertain future, I'm going to spend some time this morning listening to what Father thinks is important. Believe it or don't, it takes a lot of faith to believe that God really cares about the nit picky details of my job. With all the stuff going on in the middle east, and the Olympics in China, and the fragile economy, it feels somewhat selfish to think that God would be invested in who I have lunch with this week or whether or not I go visit a small group next week.

But my God is pretty big. He's bigger than I give Him credit for. And I hear that He's very fond of me. ;-)