The Risk

have you ever made the decision to just sit back and give something to Jesus? it’s hard. . .right?

darn near impossible for me.

my human brain wants to live by the things that are seen. . .the things that are real. . .the things that are tangible. Jesus is spirit, faith, belief. i can touch Him like i can touch a shiny new quarter. . .i can not see Him like i can see the blink of a firefly. . .i can not hear Him like I can hear the siren of a firetruck. but by my faith. . .i know. . . He is there.

i know He is there, but I struggle. . .daily. . .to overcome my human nature. . .to touch Him. . .to see Him. . .to hear Him. i struggle to be less of me and more of Him.

three boys. . .my three sons. . .the plan of adopting a daughter. . .the loss of a miscarriage. . .children change things. prayer changes things. Jesus changes things.

what was once my life became their life. . .what was once all about me, became more about them. how can i do it? how do i do it? how can i raise my children to touch Jesus. . .to see Jesus. . .to hear Jesus? how to i raise them to flee from evil and run to the Savior?

three lives, entrusted to me. . .a less than perfect soul. . .a struggling soul. . .a sometimes far from obedient soul. . .

do i do it? do i take the RISK? do i give back to Jesus the treasures of my love affair? can i give back to Him, the gifts in which He miraciously entrusted to me? how can i let go?

i climb into my quiet place. . .i close my eyes. . .i open the ears of my heart. . .i know that if it were up to me and me alone, my children would turn out lost. slaves to the master of this earthly world. for i am not perfect. . .i am flawed. . .i am a dying weed in a garden of despair. . .

but i know a gardener. . .the Gardener. . .so i resolve to RISK it all. . .to give my children to the One, the only One that knows how to grow them into beauty. . .the One who created the garden. . .the One that created them. . .

and when i listen closely. . .quietly. . .obediently. . .i can hear Him whisper, “daughter. . .you tend, and weed, and water. . .watch the garden and give it what it needs. . .I will GROW the blooms that I have entrusted to your care. . .I will grow them into the most beautiful and perfect flowers. . .My flowers. . .and I will give them eternal life in the garden surrounding My streets of gold.”

and so i do. i garden daily. sometimes i forget to weed. . .sometimes i am lazy in my tending, but i know. . .without a shadow of doubt. . .that my blooms no longer belong to me. they were given back to the Gardener of life. . .the Gardener of my soul.