When I was a teenager, my best friend and I drew pictures of our dream lives: the boys we wanted to marry, what our houses would look like, how many kids we wanted to have. Even as a young adult, I thought I had enough raw talent to create the picture of my life, inside the lines, with shades of my choosing.
Instead, my years have resembled a connect-the-dots picture… nothing close to the picture I drew as a teenager.
Transition has become a familiar picture for me, one who has called four countries, twelve states, and thirty-five dwellings, home. The dots don’t always feel connected, but instead of waiting around for the next dot to appear, I try to live with intention.
A long-ago shepherd and king wrote, “The Lord is the portion of my inheritance and my cup; You support my lot. The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places; Indeed, my heritage is beautiful to me (Psalms 16:5-6).” He saw that God drew a good picture of his life. And God has connected all the crazy dots to draw a good picture of my life, too.
Only my Artist knows when and where He’ll move His sharpened pencil next—up, down, sideways. Sometimes I’m tempted to nudge it along, but I can’t see the big picture. I can only see the morning sunrise—God’s drawing of a new day.
(Originally published on the Really blog @ http://www.elisamorgan.com)