Holy Routine

I have graduated.  From the closet floor to my computer desk.  I even have a picture on the wall nearby that spells out WRITER.  I don't feel official.  Who really reads my ramblings anyway but friends, family and the occasional person who gets to my blog by mistake?

But I am certain of this: I do have a story to tell.  Because I AM A STORY.  His Story.  And so are you.

Each day is sovereignly designed by our Maker.  What if we awakened each morning with a sense of wonder?  What if we chose to see the road ahead as an adventure, approaching the mundane components of our day as opportunities for God to reveal Himself through us?

As Christians, we drink from the well of Grace.  He lovingly rearranges the broken pieces, picks up the loose threads and paints over the ugly hue of our depravity.  Each element of our day is the remaking - the masterpiece He is creating.  Because the Gospel is not just words on a page.  It's about changed lives.  And that process doesn't happen overnight but through tiny joys and a dusting of drudgery in each minute of every day.

The echo of providence resonates through our lives if we will only listen for it.  As I write, I write as a learner, hearing my own words over and over.  Not just in the finished piece, but in all the revisions.
It is there that I hear anew what God has done and is doing.

My story, your story, His story - all one really.  Even the trivial aspects of our day bear the fingerprints of the nail scarred Hand.

So like Jacob, let us wrestle.  Wrestle to see Him in our seemingly insignificant routine.  For His pen is scripting majestic strokes of glory on the pages of our ordinary lives.