I hate how life gets sometimes, especially mine now that I am back in school, with a full 18 hours worth of make up classes! I will be the very first to tell you I have the absolute worst case of senioritis known to man right now. I am bitter about having to be in stupid classes, where I don't learn anything, feel like I am wasting my time, and doing meaningless busy work. I am bitter about having to play catch up because of one bad advisor meeting my sophomore year. I could probably continue, but you don't want to hear it, and I do not need to dwell on it anymore.
I was sitting in my car about to get out after a long day of classes and dreading how it hasn't ended yet and everything else I had to do that day. Then I tuned into what was on my radio at the moment and heard the voice of Steven Curtis Chapman singing the chorus to his song "Yours". He is saying over and over again "Its all Yours God, Yours God, everything is Yours. From the stars in the sky to the depths of the ocean floor. Its all Yours God, Yours God, everything is Yours. You're the Maker and Keeper, Father and Ruler of everything." And although the actual song has nothing to do with my tired worn out academic mind and body, it spoke to me. I realized that no matter what was going on, marriage, how many mountains of homework, tests, clothes, and everything else that is happening in my life right now, none of it is mine. All my circumstances belong to Him, why am I worried?
It also sorta echoed what I looked at in my quiet time today too. It was 1 John 2:28- 3:3. 3:1a says "See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God and so we are." What a huge blessing that is, and I have been guilty of not abiding in it! How silly of me to do something like that! No matter how stressed out I get, or busy, or crazy, or anything, it is all His and I am His child, a gift like nothing else.
Sorry I wasn't meaning to preach at yall, I just had this revelation, and had to document it and get it all out!
No comments:
Post a Comment