Trading Up

This morning when I got out of bed, it was cold in the house. I slipped on a light sweater but still had goose bumps on my arms. The room had that pre-dawn dark that only shows the shadows of things. I could make out the outline of one of my warmer sweaters on our cedar chest where I had left it last night. I reached down to get it, but for a split second, I stopped myself. I was really chilly, and the sweater I was wearing was starting to get warmer with my body heat. You may not understand this unless you are as cold-natured as I am, but I actually dreaded those few seconds when I took off one sweater and before I could get the other one on. Plus, the new sweater (though it was a fuzzy and much warmer than the one I was wearing) would actually feel colder because it had not yet had body heat in it. The thought of putting on a colder sweater was not appealing, so I paused to weigh this minor choice that felt like a major choice so early in the morning.

As I reached for my fuzzy sweater and took off my other sweater, in my spirit I could hear my Shepherd's voice: "See...this is what it's like to trade your plans for mine." Again, the training and the guidance of my Shepherd was at a moment when I least expected it...but again so very clear. It's trading up. It's not like trading your peanut butter sandwich for a pimento cheese sandwich (although, for me that IS trading up!). But it's much much more. It's like trading your peanut butter sandwich for a 7-course meal (the kind at an elegantly set table with more forks than a person reasonably knows what to do with!).

Why do we hang onto the old sweater? Why do we insist on holding on to the less-than-best when the very best is only one decision away? Why do we cringe when we hear that we are to lay down our lives in order to find them? I think it's because we don't want to lose what's familiar to us. We don't want to lose what is easy for us to control and exchange it for something that is not within our realm of control. We like control, don't we??? We forfeit the BEST in order to have the comfortable. Sounds crazy, but we do it every day of our lives.

From the book Living in the Light of Eternity: "Have you seen how the wind comes and carries off the dry leaves from beheath a tree? That is the best way for me to explain what I mean. Let the wind of God blow you away and carry you wherever He wishes. And then what? Don't we need to know more than that? No. I do not know where the Lord will have you or me go tomorrow or next year. All I know is that I am standing on emptiness and declaring total dependence on the Lord. I am but a handful of dust. I have nothing in myself that I can cling to, no strength of my own to carry me. It is He who leads me, whether that means having everything or having nothing. All that matters is Him."

I went downstairs (in my fuzzy warm sweater!) and curled up in my favorite quiet spot. I did some reading and praying. And while I was praying, an interesting vision filled my mind's eye. I could see a long white/blank path...it stretched on for what seemed like forever...just a blank road with no markings, no buildings, no anything. And down the road I could see Jesus. So, it was me and Jesus and in between us was this empty blank path. This picture came to me as I was praying because my prayer was, "I give it all to you. I lay it all down...all my ideas and plans. All I want is YOUR plan for my life. I don't even know the details of what that means, but I'm committing to doing whatever You lead me to do." So, I could picture the road ahead that looks blank and empty...at least as far as my human eyes can see...because there's nothing that I'm inserting into it. There's no "well, I'll follow You if you include this in my life" or "I'll agree to Your plan if I can be assured that I can have this in my life." No...it's a blank path. This is the path that cannot be navigated by sight. Faith is the only compass for this one. But this is the better path...the best path. It requires trading up...giving up the familiar warm path in order to gain the unpredictable, every-winding path of unending adventure and unseen treasures. It may carry me where I never wanted or dreamed I'd go. It may wind through some valleys that I wouldn't want to walk through. It may feel like thin air every step of the way. But up ahead on that path, I see Jesus. He's a kind Shepherd, and He's beckoning to "Come follow me." I'm glad the path looks blank because it makes His footsteps much more visibly pronounced.