Patience my child.. patience...

Ahh.. the week gone by..

Midterms were.. not that great.. but should be okay.
Coffee house was awesome! The turn out was amazing, praise God and hopefully some of what was said would hit home to people. I know some of it surely hit home for me.

One thing that especially hit home was the story of the prodigal son. Bren and I looked at each other and laughed because it came up twice last saturday as both devos after the softball games were on the prodigal son. So when Calla read the prodigal son to us, we thought to ourselves, 3 times in 6 days? Then Alex started putting real life testimony intertwined with the prodigal son story. Wow, now that was powerful. Within 6 days, I've heard the prodigal son story 4 times and all 4 times, the message was different though the passage was the same. None of them added to the story, they all read the same passage from the NIV and shared their thoughts on it.
4 times, I learned something different from it.

I used to picture myself as the older son, the son who stayed wiht the father, asking for recognition. "Are you there father? I'm serving you, working hard for you. Do you really love me?"
Last night, I realized prodigal son doesn't necessarily represent someone who doesn't know God completely. It can be someone who took their lives into their own hands. Someone who saw all the blessings God gave them and thought, "Yah, I worked hard for all this. I'm going to go have fun now cuz it seems like I can make it on my own." That prodigal son(daughter), was me.
It wasn't until I had squandered everything GOd had given me, went off in all the wrong directions and became so desperate that I remembered the unconditional love of my father's home. Not that I didn't know He was there. I'd still remember God, and talk to Him. But deep down, I knew that I had given Him a slice of my life, but not my entire life. The rest was mine.
It wasn't until I completely botched everything up that I came back to God, teary eyed and blotchy, and asked him to mend my broken pieces and make it into what it really was meant for.
Something else I realized though last night was yes, I gave him the pieces.. but I'm like a child, standing beside Him, fidgeting around asking Him, "Are you done yet God?"
fidget some more as I peer over His shoulder.. "Are you sure that piece goes there? I think it'd look nice right here... want me to put it in for you?"
"Are you sure you don't need my help? If we both work on it at the same time, it'll be done twice as quick!"

Then I see God shaking his head lightly with a humoured smile on His face. "Patience my child.. patience.. trust in me."

Patience my child.. patience... Trust in God