The Answer may be in a Seed

My morning quiet times have been just that. 

Quiet. 

It's as though my thoughts are my prayers. 

I struggle to find  powerful words to penetrate circumstances and bring a miracle. I feel like I am coming up empty.

Jennie Allen said something today about Joseph in Genesis. You can watch the clip over on If:Equip.

She said that there was a steadiness to Joseph's life, not because it was a good life, but because he hoped in God.

How many times do I look for the steadiness in my circumstances, for choppy waves to calm a bit, only to be disappointed? It's when my perspective shifts and I take hope, that God is able to give me grace and strength and wisdom.

I wonder how long it took Joseph to shift perspective? He lived through incredible loss, betrayal, waiting, prison, promotion and loss again before he was able to see circumstances shift in his life. Even then he carried grief with him over the way he longed for things to be.

And if he had been a woman and a mother, would it have taken longer?

I think of another message I heard recently by Bill Johnson. (You can listen on the iBethel app- "The Unusual Victory.) Toward the end of his message, Bill made a statement that has stayed with me. 

"Often God will give his answers in the form of a seed." 

God is about process, journey, trust. Bravery in the face of fears. Sowing the small seed, which is in my hand, because it's all that I have.

My daughter wrote a post at the end of last year that has lingered in my heart. It was brave and honest and vulnerable. She called it Weathered Stripes.  She shares how her daughter with autism teaches her to be brave every day. She shares her fears, her struggles, a piece of her story.

My story intersects with hers. We are mother and daughter and granddaughter. Our lives are intertwined. 

There is another whose story is being written. God holds the scripts to our lives in his huge hands with his even bigger heart overflowing love and grace in His story toward us. 

This was Joseph's hope. This is mine.

I stand on tiptoe in prayer today, stretching my faltering faith to catch a glimpse beyond the fence of human ways of thinking. To witness the glory of God here on earth, hidden for our discovery and delight. Seldom does He appear the way we think, but always in love and restoration and season.

My prayer is for eyes to see You today Lord. Or at least to see the seed in my hand.