Different Kind of Provision

Sep 6

All summer I have watched the drought here in Minnesota echo my own drought. I have watched myself wake up day in and day out praying and preparing for provision much like we watch the weather app on our phones hoping the forecast predicting rain will come to pass. I have had meetings, gone to events, and had phone conversations in which, as faithfully as I know how, I have communicated the vision and the need. The urgency and the impact. Every time could have been the time where provision rained down, but like the weather the forecasted rain clouds turned into sunshine and where sunshine is good for the soul, when you need rain the heat can make you tired.

Today I am sitting at my desk, looking out my window and it is raining. Not a down pour, but a slow drizzle. A mist covering the grass, trees and gardens. As I sit looking at the physical rain I am thinking about the last week in the life of Stories Foundation and Storyteller Cafe. An important deadline came and went, and even though there has been much provision in the way of donations and encouragement, we are still waiting for the down pour needed to be able to break ground.

All of this has me wondering, is God raining down provision, just not the kind I had in mind? Is this extra time needed for the right people to hear or choose to join us? Do we need to wait a little longer for the cost of materials to go down? Is there something else I am to be working on I would have missed if I was planning a ground breaking party like I had hoped I would be doing this month? Am I being established and developed so I can continue on in the next steps of following God in what he is asking and will ask me to do? What is being provided for that I can’t see? What work is happening? Is God showing up in a quiet mist, instead of a mighty storm?

It is in our humanness we expect God to come in a loud way. Sitting here today, I am reminded of when God came to Elijah, not In a great wind, earthquake or fire but instead in the gentle whisper (1 Kings 19:11-13). Our human way is to expect the big impact, the large waves, pray for the big storms, be amazed by the million dollar checks, and large numbers. Yet, it has never been God’s way to define success as we do. We see his definition of success when he goes to find the one lost sheep, sits at a well with a woman no one wanted to be friends with, and calls men others would have overlooked. Jesus did draw crowds, but he was wary of them, he knew the masses to be fickle; able to turn on a person in a moment.

To continue to trust God when, to a watching world, it seems he isn’t working is perhaps one of the most refining experiences of my life. When I look back at not only the last 9 years, but the last 18 months, I know God has led us here. I see his hand in my life personally and professionally, I know the need is great and I know he desires to live through his followers to meet needs and be “repairers of broken walls, restorers of streets with dwellings” (Isaiah 58:12) both for individuals and communities.

I also know the longer the wait, the more people become skeptical. I easily forget God’s ways are not the world’s and as a community of believers we often confuse our own works with God’s blessings, our own definition of “fruit” with God’s definition which is born from His Spirit and expressed through our refined character (Galatians 5:22-23) . When we do this, we can miss where God is working and we can miss being a part of it because we are holding success and defining it through the lens of our own definitions, instead of His.

I have long said I wanted someone to share from the messy middle of following Jesus. I now realize I underestimated how hard it is to share from the messy middle of following Jesus. This is my feeble offering and it is for you who knows God is asking you to do something beyond yourself. This offering of my words, life, vulnerabilities is for you who are scared to let go of comfort to follow in faith. It is for you who wonders if God is still real, if he is still working, if he still brings the rain after the drought, if he still speaks in a quiet whisper when you are high on the mountain, if he still calms the storm with a word, if the walls will still fall if we do the unconventional, and somewhat crazy, acts of faith.

I believe He still does. I believe he is working. I believe he touches us and our hearts to join him. I believe he does all this when I can’t see. I believe his provision is present, even if it isn’t how I would want it to come. And I will still trust in the waiting he is working on me, maybe on you too.

In the waiting I am continually learning faith is identified by the unknown and trust built through opportunities to depend on Him whose vision is beyond what we can see.