“Do ordinary things extraordinarily well.”
Psalm 1-3
1Blessed is the man
who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked,
or set foot on the path of sinners,
or sit in the seat of mockers.
2But his delight is in the Law of the LORD,
and on His law he meditates day and night.
3He is like a tree planted by streams of water,
yielding its fruit in season,
whose leaf does not wither,
and who prospers in all he does. (1:1-3)
ACTS 16:1-15
JOURNAL
Psalm 1 paints a picture that’s both beautiful and painfully simple: Blessed is the one who doesn’t walk in the counsel of the wicked, but delights in the law of the Lord, meditating on it day and night. And yet, I often make life far more complicated than it needs to be. I chase answers, overthink outcomes, try to force fruit where the soil hasn't been tended. But the one who stays rooted, planted by the stream of God’s truth, flourishes in season. That image, of a tree whose leaf does not wither, has become a kind of anchor for me lately. I long for that kind of steadiness.
This morning, as I read Acts 16, I saw something else, something deeply personal. Paul meets a young man named Timothy, a mixed-heritage kid with a sincere faith. Paul sees something in him and invites him into the mission. This simple, faithful beginning sets the stage for what would later become one of the most powerful mentoring relationships in Scripture. And it matters to me because Timothy’s story doesn’t end there. It leads to Paul’s letter, 2 Timothy, a letter that has become a cornerstone of my own journey.
That verse… "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, love, and self-discipline.” (2 Timothy 1:7)
It’s always spoken to me, but lately, I’ve begun to see it with new clarity.
Power comes when I cling to truth, even when it’s hard.
Love is not just a feeling; it is born from sacrifice, a willingness to lay myself down.
Discipline isn’t about control. It flows from surrender, from yielding to a greater will than my own.
These are not just lofty ideals. They’re deeply practical. They shape how I speak, how I parent, how I love, how I show up in the mundane. These are the building blocks of what I now believe are Outposts of the Kingdom, glimpses of heaven’s echo in a broken world.
Years ago, in a quiet moment of journaling, I sensed the Lord impress this on me: “The challenge of each day is to first surrender to greatness (which is the Spirit and essence of God), and then to seek, identify, and grow the echoes of heaven.”
That phrase, echoes of heaven, has stuck with me. It’s what I’m searching for daily. Not perfection. Not ease. Just small, sacred echoes that whisper, “There is more than this world. There is purpose. There is joy.”
Because truthfully, I’m reminded every single day that this is not heaven. I feel it in my aging body, in the barrage of bad news, in the weight of grief and injustice. But even in the middle of that ache, there are still outposts, glimpses of Eden. In the kindness of a stranger. In the laughter of my family. In the quiet nudge of the Spirit on a morning like this.
So today, I will step into this ordinary Thursday with an extraordinary mindset. Not because I am strong, but because I have received the Spirit—the gift of power, love, and self-discipline. When I choose to live in truth, when I willingly sacrifice for love, and when I surrender to God’s ways, I find myself aligned with His Spirit. And it is there...in that posture of receiving and releasing...that peace and joy take root. I will trust the stream that runs beneath my roots, knowing it is His Spirit that carries me forward.
No comments:
Post a Comment