Our grand plans

I got a dose of perspective yesterday, served up in my daughter's retelling of "The Story of the Three Tress" they read in Children's Church on Easter Sunday. In case you've never read that great story, there are three young trees growing in the Middle East centuries ago. Each tree has a dream of what they will one day become. One tree dreams of being made into a beautiful chest and one day carrying a grand, valuable treasure. The second tree dreams of being made into a stately, large ocean growing ship, fit to carry a king on a voyage across the seas. The third tree dreams of growing taller than any other tree, his tall, strong trunk pointing to the heavens.

The first tree is cut down, and made into a feeding trough for livestock. It is placed in a small barn. One cold night, a young woman, heavy with a child soon to be born, walks slowly into the stable with her husband. She is weary. They have no place to sleep, so they sleep there among the hay and sheep, cows and goats. The woman goes into labor, and has a beautiful baby boy. The tree knows there is something special about this baby, this mother. The father wishes he were home in his carpenters' shop, where he could place the baby in a beauitful cradle made with his own hands. But, this rough-hewn manger will have to do. The tree stands straighter, gently cradling this little babe as his mother places him within the hay of the manger. The tree knows that he truly is holding the most valuable treasure the world has ever, and will ever, know -- the baby Jesus.

The second tree is cut down, hewn, and made into a small fishing boat. No grand sea voyages for this small vessel. He is saddened that he will never carry a finely robed king on a grand sea voyage. He will never stand tall and proud amongst other ships in a crowded port. No, he holds wet, stinking fish nets. His cargo are simple peasants and the quarry of their trade. Then one day, a man and some friends board the small vessel. As they row out upon the waves, a violent storm begins to blow, and the little boat and his passengers are fearful. But then, one of the peasants, the one they call Jesus, the master, he stands up and tells the waves to be quiet. The wind to still. And suddenly all is calm. The is humbled, and realizes that he carries the God almighty, King of Heaven and Earth in his small hull.

The third tree is cut down, cut into large beams, and formed into a rugged cross. He will stand on a hill, alright. He will stand on Golgatha. He is shamed as criminals are hung to the death on what used to be his strong branches. He drips with blood. He smells of the stench of sweat and death, not the fragrant aromas of the forest. One horrible day, a very different man is hung on his beams. The skies quake and pour out rain like tears of sorrow, as family and close friends huddle at his base, weeping for this man Jesus, the King of the Jews. As Jesus forgives the man hanging next to him, with one of his last breaths he breathes, "You will be in Paradise with me today." And the tree realizes, as Jesus' spirit is relinquished into the hands of His Father, God Almighty, that he will point to heaven, after all. For centuries, ages to come through history, people will look at that cross and see the glory and grace of heaven.

In Carissa's rough and passionate retelling of that wonderful story, I realized how much we are like those trees. We dream grand plans for our lives, for our families, what we want to become, the honor and glory we hope to receive, maybe fame and fortune, maybe the renown of a good reputation, maybe the feel of power in a position. Our human tendency is to make our own plans, and ask for God's blessings on those plans. Seldom do our plans turn out as we dream. God takes our dreams, and fleshes them out in a way we never would have planned, in a way that seldom brings us the glory we seek. Rather, the glory goes to Him. Just like each of those trees, God will take our lives and hew them out in a way that is fitting with His plan for us, in a way that benefits us, and in a way that seldom matches our self-focused dreams. The glory is meant to go to Him. Our lives are meant to glorify Him. To exemplify his grace.

I have my degree in Public and International Relations. When my husband and I moved to a rural area several years ago, I ended up giving up my professional contacts and opportunities. I struggle with wanting to regain my professional clout and reputation, to be a Manager or Director again, to show others and myself what I can do. But wow, when I write that down, I see how selfish that all sounds. Me me me. God's design is for me to be fulfilled by Him, to be defined by His grace and mercy and strength, not my own skill and intelligence. So, like the tree, I may see my dreams and visions fulfilled and reshaped in a completely different way.

Fighting God doesn't bring peace. Learning to drop all my baggage, cling to God, and seek after his heart and his plans, that brings peace. Saying it sounds easier than it often feels. But, it is true. There is a song I learned in high school that has been coming to me a lot the past week or so.... "Change my heart, O God, make it ever true. Change my heart, O God, may I be like you. You are the potter. I am the clay. Mold me and make me, this is what I pray."

Do you want to be molded and shaped into a strong, purposeful vessel God can use? It may not look glorious in the world's eyes, but God's creations are glorious. For eternity.