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"Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock.” Matthew 7:24
The week that the kids went back to school was a weird one. Normally I crave a quiet house and some time by myself to clean, create, organize, or just get back into the swing of things.
But this time felt different. After dropping off the kids and cleaning up the chaos that happens each morning in the kitchen, I was stumped. “What do I do now? Where do I go? What happens now?”
Don’t get me wrong, I had plenty to do. I had an in-progress piece on my easel, packages to be mailed out, emails to write, agendas to make, clothes to be donated, reports to run, and invoices to enter. I had lessons to outline, handouts to make, and books to order.
But I remained stuck. Frozen, if you will, in the quiet.
The thing is, like so many of you, we've been going full force as a family since the end of July. Between school, the legislative season, after-school activities, sports, and not to mention Christmas, there has not been a spare second of the day. Truly. My list has been so long and daunting that there were always things left undone, things that felt urgent, or decisions still left to be made.
But now? It’s quiet. It’s the thing I had longed for but now it just feels 'meh'.
As I processed all of the emotions surrounding my “stuckness”, I was surprised to learn it was all coming from fear.
The fear that if I actually can get everything back under control, the rug will eventually get pulled out from under me. And if I just stay stuck, stay frozen, then it won't hurt as bad.
But that’s a lie.
That’s a lie that the enemy wants me to bask in, and to be honest, I’ve basked it that same lie for nearly five years. Over the last six years, our family has experienced our fair share of grief and disappointment, that’s true. And each time it felt like we were just getting our footing back when the next blow would come. And now I'm constantly bracing myself for the next thing to happen, which is a disguise for simply living in fear.
When I was confessing all of this to the Lord, He gently whispered to me, “If I'm the rug, Becky, I’ll never move.”
I was immediately reminded of the analogy Jesus uses to describe the distinct difference between someone who builds their house on the rock and who builds their house on the sand. When the storms come, the house on the sand falls, but the house built on the rock stays strong because of its firm foundation.
When we focus on what might happen, we are building our house on the sand. We build on the sand when we build our lives on marriages, families, parents, kids’ successes, sports wins, careers, relationships, possessions, etc. And then when the career comes to an end, the marriage crumbles, our parents pass away, relationships sever, or kids fail, what are we left with?
We have to make Jesus - and our relationship with him - the rug underneath our feet. Things that are also on the rug might fall off or get knocked over. Heck, we might even get knocked over. But our foundation will never get pulled away. I was encouraged by this this week and hope you are too.
Pivot Points of Reflection:
What is the rug in my life? Is it Jesus or is it something else?
How can I actively make Jesus the foundation of my life?
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