Shards of broken glass pepper the floor. And for the life of me, I cannot remember the impact. As my eyes try to focus again, the fuzzy pieces - some big, some small, remind me of what used to be a part of a bigger picture. I thought for sure I knew where we were going . . .Long, slow strides toward a "pie-in-the-sky" dream. But somehow, the dream drifted into my day to day reality. Like a New Year's blimp, it has smashed into the building of mediocrity I've created - brick by brick.
As I shake off the dust collected from the commotion, I carefully begin to turn each piece in my hand as it comes into view. Colors I've never seen before start to form, leaving the places I've already visited tasting bland. But I've gotten comfortable here, dining on crumbs, ignoring each call into the banquet hall.
For a seat next to the King of Kings is costly. Every thought, idea and concept - every idol, must be destroyed, bringing me here to the heap in front of me. Something has shifted, something at my core. And as hard as I try, I cannot fit the pieces back together again. Any attempt leaves my hands bloodied and my heart torn to shreds.
God is calling me to new horizons, ones I never dreamed possible - until now.
I find such comfort in the colorful characters of God's Word. Exodus chapter four illustrates God's dream for Moses. Sometimes when God clarifies His dream for us, we can come up with a boatload of excuses. The mountain seems too high, the army far too strong. With a tongue all tied up in knots how could my message really make any kind of difference?
And like Moses, I hear myself whisper back to God, "Please send somebody else."
But God only made one Moses. He only made one me. He only made one you. All on purpose, for a purpose.
What is He calling you to do?
No need to fear the broken glass my friend. The God who walked on water will certainly carry you over the devastating debris, leaving only the beauty of His glorious presence, dancing in prisms of light.
