The Mystery Of His Will
Stories
Vision Stories
True Accounts Of Visions, Angels, And Healing Miracles
... he has made known to us the mystery of his will, according to his good pleasure that he set forth in Christ, as a plan for the fullness of time, to gather up all things in him, things in heaven and things on earth. (vv. 9-10)
There was a time, when my children were all in school, when my life seemed meaningless. Everything I did was undone by the end of the day. The meals I prepared were either eaten or rejected. The house I cleaned got messed up. The clothes I washed and folded became dirty and scattered all over the floor. Everyone in my family was aspiring to become something. They were growing. I was standing still, facilitating other people's lives, but not having a life of my own. This was not what I had expected to be doing when I grew up.
One morning, I got up and managed to get dressed, but found that I had no idea what to do. Nothing was worth the effort. At the bedroom door, I didn't know whether to turn to the right or to the left. Should I sit on the sofa or stand in the kitchen? I didn't even know what to do with the next ten minutes, let alone the rest of the day, so I went back to bed.
Eventually, I decided to go for a walk and put the matter before God. It was my intention to wander aimlessly in the woods until I found a direction. It had snowed during the night. The sky was blue and the morning was crisp and bright. Juniper branches drooped, laden with snow. Sage and Rabbit Brush were white lumps on the landscape. Tracks of small creatures made lacy patterns in the snow. Behind me, I could see where my own less delicate feet had plowed a trail through the woods.
Suddenly, the sun gleamed brilliantly on the snow. To my amazement, I caught the sight of the crystalline formations of individual snowflakes. It had always been my presumption that snow stars could only be seen under a microscope or with the aid of some other visual enhancer, but there I was, looking at millions of individual snowflakes with my naked eyes. When I swooshed my hand through the powder, perfect, fragile stars clung to my black glove and scattered themselves all over my coat. This was absolutely mesmerizing to me, and I have no idea how long I remained there.
Then, in an instant, I knew what I was supposed to be doing with my life: jillions and jillions of little things, fragile passing things, things which are everywhere and cover everything, things which nobody can even see unless the sun happens to gleam on them just right!
I have never forgotten that moment, and it has inspired me many times since. It has given meaning to my work, my relationships with people, my days, and my life in general. I feel so grateful for the lovely way that God spoke to me that day.
There was a time, when my children were all in school, when my life seemed meaningless. Everything I did was undone by the end of the day. The meals I prepared were either eaten or rejected. The house I cleaned got messed up. The clothes I washed and folded became dirty and scattered all over the floor. Everyone in my family was aspiring to become something. They were growing. I was standing still, facilitating other people's lives, but not having a life of my own. This was not what I had expected to be doing when I grew up.
One morning, I got up and managed to get dressed, but found that I had no idea what to do. Nothing was worth the effort. At the bedroom door, I didn't know whether to turn to the right or to the left. Should I sit on the sofa or stand in the kitchen? I didn't even know what to do with the next ten minutes, let alone the rest of the day, so I went back to bed.
Eventually, I decided to go for a walk and put the matter before God. It was my intention to wander aimlessly in the woods until I found a direction. It had snowed during the night. The sky was blue and the morning was crisp and bright. Juniper branches drooped, laden with snow. Sage and Rabbit Brush were white lumps on the landscape. Tracks of small creatures made lacy patterns in the snow. Behind me, I could see where my own less delicate feet had plowed a trail through the woods.
Suddenly, the sun gleamed brilliantly on the snow. To my amazement, I caught the sight of the crystalline formations of individual snowflakes. It had always been my presumption that snow stars could only be seen under a microscope or with the aid of some other visual enhancer, but there I was, looking at millions of individual snowflakes with my naked eyes. When I swooshed my hand through the powder, perfect, fragile stars clung to my black glove and scattered themselves all over my coat. This was absolutely mesmerizing to me, and I have no idea how long I remained there.
Then, in an instant, I knew what I was supposed to be doing with my life: jillions and jillions of little things, fragile passing things, things which are everywhere and cover everything, things which nobody can even see unless the sun happens to gleam on them just right!
I have never forgotten that moment, and it has inspired me many times since. It has given meaning to my work, my relationships with people, my days, and my life in general. I feel so grateful for the lovely way that God spoke to me that day.
