So we wanted to get here.
After selling our house and our cars at the perfect point in time. After getting our US citizenship and all our crazy complicated Indian paperwork sorted. But before the school year started. With admission in the school we chose although they’d closed admissions for the year. While living in an apartment close to school. (Like a five-minute drive would be perfect.) And, oh, could we also take ALL our US furniture with us, along with a few life-nourishing essentials like jars of Nutella and Costco-sized bags of chocolate chips?
Yup, that (with a few extras thrown in) was our laundry list and timetable for God before we left Portland for Bangalore last month. Thankfully God doesn’t tire of his kids too easily. He answered the practical stuff, the ridiculous requests and the self-indulgent, I’m-s0-First-World-and-absolutely-NEED-this ones.
Our response was a big long sigh of relief. Thank you Jesus!
Followed by: now that we’re here and those requests have been ticked off, here’s a brand new list.
Sure there’s nothing wrong with asking our God for things. He is our Abba Father and loves hearing from His kids. Not that He is obligated to give us everything we ask for. He has every right to say no or later. Simply because the Manufacturer always knows what’s best for the product created.
But this morning I was convicted about forgetfulness.
Forgetting His past goodness and forgetting to count my blessings doesn’t just leave us stagnant. It leaves us looking for more. It starts us complaining and nit-picking, even diminishing who God is.
Counting your blessings leads to Contentment for now and Confidence for the future.
Remembering and Reflecting on the journey brings Rest.
I’m not saying I can’t pray that my kids adjust to the new school or that I find a job or that we escape getting killed by the unbelievably chaotic traffic where everyone on the roads seems to have a morbid death wish. I can pray for those things. (And I probably should).
But I first have to start with remembering.
I don’t want to be like the Israelites who seemed to have shockingly short-term memories about the plagues, parting seas and pillars of cloud and fire. Instead they whined about… waitforit… potatoes. Pota-freakin-toes!!
I can’t point a finger. My top complaint these days is potholes. And that Kit-Kat here tastes like cardboard. Oh and let’s not forget the power cuts. Or that ten minutes in India is anything from half an hour to three days. And let me not get started on the toilet paper.
But today I choose to remember the journey. And say thank you.
When I forget His blessings, I open myself to discontent.
But when I look back on His grace, I have no fear of the future.