“Relying on God has to begin all over again every day as if nothing had yet been done.”
PSALM 41-43
ACTS 24
JOURNAL
Over and over again I find myself returning to the same truth. It is there in David, in Paul, in Jesus, in James, in C.S. Lewis, and in so many of the writers and people I have admired through the years. Every day stands on its own. Every morning begins again. Yesterday's faith cannot be lived today any more than yesterday's bread can satisfy today's hunger. As Lewis wrote, "Relying on God has to begin all over again every day as if nothing had yet been done." I am beginning to see that this isn't a burden. It is an invitation.
David's psalms once made me uncomfortable because they exposed just how human he was. One moment he is overwhelmed with despair, the next he is praising God. Paul appears fearless before governors and kings, yet his letters reveal a man acquainted with weakness, fear, disappointment, and a thorn that never seemed to leave. Even Jesus wept, agonized, and cried out to the Father. The common thread is not emotional control. It is daily dependence. Their strength was never found in escaping the human experience but in continually placing that experience into God's hands.
I think I spent much of my life believing maturity meant eventually reaching a place where surrender was no longer necessary, where I would become steady enough, disciplined enough, and wise enough to live above the struggle. Scripture keeps dismantling that illusion. The kingdom of God is not built by one great act of faith but by countless ordinary days lived in obedience. Each morning I surrender my hopes, fears, ambitions, and agenda. Each evening I simply trust God with what was planted. That is the rhythm of the kingdom.
When I truly embrace today as the only day I have been given, something changes. Today is no longer a bridge to some future life I hope to attain. It becomes an adventure to be fully lived with all of its uncertainty, beauty, joy, sorrow, victories, and failures. Every conversation, every lesson taught, every practice coached, every problem solved, every act of love or discipline becomes another seed planted into eternity. I may never see the harvest, but that has never been my responsibility.
Perhaps this is what it really means to be an outpost of God's kingdom. An outpost does not conquer the whole world in a day. It faithfully represents the King wherever it stands. One day at a time. One act of obedience at a time. One seed at a time. As James says, the blessing comes not from hearing the truth but from continuing in it. If I can simply live today's adventure with open hands, trusting God rather than outcomes, then today's small seeds will echo far beyond anything I will ever see this side of eternity.