I snagged a piece of driftwood the last time I was in the Delta that I carried back with me to my new Nashville home. The stick was surely at one time a strong limb, attached to a sturdy tree along the river before it broke off. The Mighty Mississippi had since whittled it into a soft, smooth joint I can just about fit in my hand. It's silly, I know, but I'm struck by its simple beauty. This piece of wood had been washed over again and again, reduced down to its core. How such a destructive process like erosion can create something so beautiful is quite the mystery, isn't it? We're all being washed over, each and every day. Eroded by life, by stress, by anxiety, by heartbreak and pain. But the whittling is being done by a good and trustworthy Father. I can trust him to chip away at my rough edges to reveal the beauty at my core. I am becoming soft and beautiful and refined to the very essence of who God intended me to be.
Here are some important words that I read last week and have been on my heart ever since-
Our first task in approaching
Is to take off our shoes
For the place we are approaching is holy
Else we find ourselves
Treading on another's dreams
More serious still, we may forget that
God was there before our arrival.