Okay, I’ve recently been handed a choice, an option, a big ole opportunity, if you will.
I’ve mulled this thing over and chewed until it was barely recognizable. I pulled it inside out, tucked it’s cuffs under, straightened ‘em out, and then I set the whole she-bang aside. I picked it up again and dragged it through the mud so’s that I could sit on the mountaintop with it.
I ignored it; it scuttled slow -n- low, sulked, and then slept in the underbrush.
But as soon as I stood, wiped the debris off my britches, and tromped back toward the house, the thing chased me. I turned, faced it, caught my ragged breath, and decided to give it a go. I reached for it and it skittered off so I hounded it up and down and up and down. Heaven help me, but that blasted, stubborn thing outran me.
And then it hid. I said, “Phooey on this opportunity. It sure nuff ain’t worth all this effort.”
His plans are His.
This morning the simplicity of the matter all but bit me on the behind.
I mean, really, I had a “duh, doofus” moment
that very nearly outshone all others.
I cannot, will not, and in no way, shape, or form, nor am I able – to do this thing on my own. He brought me to it, through it, and I reckon if He wants me to tell the story –
it’ll be for His glory, not mine.
My salvation, redemption, and ongoing sanctification are about how & why & when & where God worked out His glory IN me.
What I’m trying to say here, yes sir – yes, ma’am, I. Will. Tell. The. Tale. By the very grace and strength of the Lord God Almighty.
I’m in. Literally.
p.s. Boy-howdy am I ever glad that God doesn’t ever toss me aside, no matter how wild, wily, wacky, weird, or countrified I am.