He’s a Great God

We are down to the final weeks of preparations before our baby boy arrives. I’m starting to waddle and feel the normal aches and pains of being in the last month of pregnancy, but overall I have felt incredible this time around. Despite how good I’ve felt, though, this pregnancy has come with multiple challenges–some that are minor, and some that could potentially have major effects on the baby and his birth. And, I’ve discovered in the process of dealing with these things that my faith is way, way smaller than a mustard seed many times.

How often I believe God in the abstract, but struggle believing Him when something touches me personally! I’m ashamed to admit that, yet it is true. It is much easier to believe that God will heal someone else, or intervene in that other circumstance, or give direction to them. But what about me?

God is graciously teaching me to come to Him as a little child and to just ask. Like the centurion. Like the blind man. Like the lame man. Our pastor has been preaching through the Beatitudes and talking about what “poor in spirit” looks like–recognizing our absolute spiritual poverty and inability to bring anything to the table in return for what Christ has done and can do for us. It has convicted me to practice that poverty of spirit–not to live like I need to prove that I am somehow worthy to receive anything from God. Not to do all I can first, before coming to Him.

And then when I come to Him, I need to just ask. Ask in faith, believing that He can do it, if He chooses, and then trusting in that choice.

My God raises people from the dead.

My God makes blind people see.

My God makes deaf people hear.

My God makes lame people walk.

My God takes hearts of stone and turns them into hearts of flesh.

My God delivers from demons.

My God creates things from nothing, with simply a word.

My God moves mountains.

My God loves me.

Who am I to live as if He is anything less?

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