Another evening of quiet. Reflecting partly on the pressures of the season, both ministry and work. But mostly, I am reflecting on the blessings of God’s grace to withstand the pressures I face daily. It isn’t easy. Sometimes I feel like an anonymous face in the crowd watching the parade march by. But there is a story within that anonymity; a narrative woven by sin and redemption, pain and hope.
Maybe you are like me. You prepare the best you can for what the new day is about to bring, and you engage in your responsibilities with all the vigor you can muster. Weathering storms. Rejoicing in delights. Trusting God to accomplish his purposes.
At 45, I likely have lived more life than I have still before me to live. A sobering thought for one with a child-like sense of wonder at the world. Yet necessary to compel me toward becoming the sort of person Jesus expects of me.
Although I am largely anonymous in the natural, I am very much subject to the attention of the Lord Jesus. No longer a nameless face in the crowd. No longer just another chubby middle-aged single guy floating through life under the radar, hoping to do the best I can. My calling is higher than that. Not because of wishful thinking. Rather, because of a God-ordained assignment to obey God by following Jesus wherever he leads, even to the ends of the earth.
I am not a victim to life’s circumstances. I am a servant ambassador to the King of Kings, choosing to live an ordinary life in extraordinary ways for God’s glory and the benefit of others.
So, now the fishbowl is stirred. The parade is muddled. The anonymous crowd has gained an awareness that someone is watching. And he is watching. Even now, in the quietness of this moment.