I was going through my list of what I want to do with my life while my earthly vessel is still capable of doing anything. “I want — I want — I wish I could —” when something pulled me up short, and I asked a different question.
“What would you have me do, Lord?” I said out loud, and it was meant as a prayer. “Propel me, push me, lead me in your ways. Going for what I want isn’t working out the way I hoped.”
“First,” and I almost heard his voice, “Take care of the blessings I have entrusted to you — the house, the land, the dogs, your earthly vessel …”
I looked out the window into the backyard. A rabbit was crossing timidly, watching to see if there were canines about. A bird pecked at the remains of yesterday’s seed; I hadn’t yet put out the daily allotment. It was quiet in the house, and I hated to disturb the dogs’ sleep by getting up to fill the bird basin.
I barely was able to resist checking to see if my newly posted song had collected any Likes. I so want people to love that song — and there I went again with the “I want.”
I’ve long kind of disliked Christian songs that lead with the phrase, “I want.” I always feel like barking back: Don’t sing about wanting to draw near to God, just go ahead and draw near to God, for example. I was just as guilty, writing page after page about what I want.
Again, I could almost hear his voice: “Now you’ve got it. Don’t write about wanting to follow my will. Just follow my will. At the risk of sounding like a shoe commercial, just do it.”
And, Lord willing, that’s what I’m going to do.
