I want to write to you the way I would talk to you if we were sitting on my mom's deck, having an amazing cup of coffee (or tea) together and looking out over more trees than you could ever count.
That is actually where this started. I was up at her place last week, worn out and quiet, and I found myself doing something a little silly.
I was looking at the forest and debating with God about which tree I liked more, the oak or the pine
He started talking to me about seeds. How many acorns are on one oak. How many seeds are packed inside a single pine cone. How not every seed even gets to grow, and yet nothing is wasted, because some become shelter and some become food and it all holds together on purpose.
I thought He was just showing me how detailed and creative He is. But I realized it was more than that... He was showing me something about us...about you and me.
Over the next few days the same overarching theme kept coming to me...
In slow sourdough that will not be rushed...
In miles of one-lane traffic where a single crew was re-striping a whole freeway one dash at a time...
In a concert where I almost missed the moment because I was busy recording it...
Every one of these moments was saying the same thing to me... This is a process. This is brick by brick, line upon line, step by step.
You cannot start a house with the roof. You don't get to skip the dirt, the soil tests, the foundation, the unglamorous underground work that no one ever sees or celebrates.
We want the gold finishes and the pretty light fixtures. God is far more interested in the stability of the structure and whether the thing will stand. And here's the part I felt Him pressing on my heart, that I want to share with you today...
You are not behind. You are being built.
The oak tree out there was not anxious about the pine tree. It was not asking God why it was not something else. It simply knew its job, its role, and its responsibility, and it had let its roots go down first, which is the only reason it could keep growing taller and taller without falling over.
It was in the right season, doing the right slow work, and it was beautiful because of it.
So why do we talk to ourselves the way we would never talk to a tree?
I would never stand in that forest and tell the oak it was lazy or too slow or too far behind. But I say those things to myself all the time. And I think a lot of you do too.
Your interior is not supposed to look like anyone else's.
Your journey is not the same, your assignment is not the same, and comparison will only rob you of the very moment you are standing in.
Presence asks us to slow down. And slow is not the same as behind.
So this is my prayer for you, and my word over you as we continue seeking the Kingdom together.
May you trust the foundation God is laying, even the parts underground that no one claps for.
May you stop rushing the very roots that are about to hold up something tall.
May you be as patient and kind with yourself as you would be with anything else He made.
And may you remember, on the days it feels like it is only moving little by little, that little by little is still forward, and the promise on the other side of the slow build is:
Glory to glory. Brick on brick. Layer on layer. Step by step. He is not skipping a single one...
I am so glad we get to grow in the same forest.
If you'd like to join me and a group of people from around the globe running after Kingdom truth and Kingdom life like this...
Hope to see you there!