Many years earlier, Joseph's brothers had hated him, betrayed him, and sold him into slavery. They assumed he was dead, but Joseph was alive in a foreign land in Egypt where he first served as Potiphar's loyal, servant, then was imprisoned for ten years in an Egyptian dungeon, because he was accused of a crime he did not commit. Yet through it all, even though he surely felt utterly abandoned, Joseph remained faithful and true to his Lord. And remarkably, he was eventually elevated to Pharaoh's second in command and saved the world--and ultimately his own family and people--from starvation.
It's sometimes referred to as "The Genesis 50 Principle"--what the enemy intends for evil, God can and will use for good. As Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to His purpose."
I don't begin to pretend to understand all the pain and suffering that COVID-19 has inflicted. The illness, death, financial struggles, job loss and on and on are undeniably terrible. There are no pat, easy answer for the sorrow caused by this pandemic.
But this I do know--God is sovereign, in complete control, perfectly good, completely wise, and infinitely loving. And somehow, someway, He is going to use all of this for our greater good and for His glory. He will use what the enemy wants to use to steal, kill and destroy and instead bring out of it life more abundant. (John 10:10).
And so today, I choose to remember that even with this terrible virus, God is giving us some gifts, all sorts of unexpected gifts. For many of us--
The gift of time to ponder, to read, to study God's Word, to get outside into God's magnificent creation.
The gift of unexpected time with family to talk, to walk, to laugh, to share meals together, to ask questions and really listen to the answers.
The gift of savoring the beauty of nature. I don't think I've ever appreciated the happy pinks of the dogwood blossoms or the scarlet red of the cardinals or the smell of fresh cut grass more than I have in recent weeks. Somehow this crisis has birthed a new appreciation, a renewed sensitivity to the astounding wonder of the world around me. What a creation and what a Creator!
The gift of disruption that causes us to question our constant busyness and materialism. What needs to go? What is truly necessary? How can we simplify? In this forced simplicity, many of us are finding a sense of renewed peace and tranquility.
The gift of reading or writing or gardening or cooking (I'm still working on that sourdough bread! More on that another day!) or taking up some kind of life-giving hobby.
And the gift of margin--most of us simply don't have anywhere to rush off to! All those meetings--cancelled. All those children's sporting events--cancelled. All those get-togethers--cancelled. All those appointments--cancelled. Now I'm not saying that's all good. Of course not. But it does give us the gift of margin in which we can slow down, pause, breathe deeply, look around, savor, appreciate.
So my encouragement to all of us today is to take advantage of these gifts. Ask the Lord to show you how He wants you to grow, to learn, and to use these gifts of time, family, nature, disruption, margin. What might He be teaching us? What new dreams might He be birthing in us? What new visions might He be giving us?
To help illustrate this idea, I wanted to close with a wonderful piece I heard not too long ago entitled "Welcome to Holland," by Emily Pearl Kingsley. She wrote--
"I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help
people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would
feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a
bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David.
The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go.
Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in
Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of
pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And
you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've
been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice
that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about
what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's
where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a
very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free
to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland."
I don't want to miss the gifts of Holland...or time...or family...or simplicity...or disruption...or bread-baking...or anything else God has for me in this season. Might I, might all of us, be present and awake to all the Lord is doing in this challenging season. Might we be faithful, loving, giving, serving, listening, praying, and worshipping. For our God is worthy, and He is working, even when we cannot see it.
To God be the glory.
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