Is a grand view. Beautiful but absolutely overwhelming.
Here, then, is your dream come true, your answered prayer, that new thing you saw bubbling up in the wilderness. You are at once overcome with joy and shaking with a sense of your smallness.
What comes next?
Evening is always next.
While you rest, God works. We know from Genesis that this is the order of each day: “And there was evening, and there was morning – the first day.”
Begin at the beginning. Begin by trusting, releasing, and resting.
Begin from your smallness.
You will wake with a happiness you cannot, at first, locate. Then you will remember: The door opened! I am on the other side!
That happiness will follow you into your first tasks. Your step will be light, your confidence high. But as the clock ticks and the sun shifts, the day will close in on you. Who knew twenty-four hours could feel so small?
You will begin to rush. You will begin to worry.
You will begin to suspect that this dream is impossible.
Slowly, so slowly, you will learn to work well.
You will realize that the job is always bigger than the time for it, always a little beyond the skills you bring to it, and, somehow, never quite finished.
But you will begin to find satisfaction apart from the empty laundry basket or the fully completed list. You will discover God’s presence waiting for you in the process. He doesn’t hold himself back until you stumble to the finish line.
He is Alpha and Omega, and he is here. He is now.
Who is our God? He is the God who “performs miracles” (Psalm 77:14).
The open door was the first.
But what comes next is no less miraculous. It is very much like those loaves and those fishes. You will see the hours – still, only twenty-four. You will see the obstacles and the interruptions. You will feel the swiftness of time and the impossible breadth of all that must be accomplished.
None of that will change. Yet, in time, you will look back in wonder, like those disciples surveying the crowds on the hillside and realizing that everyone has eaten her fill.
You will realize that somehow these small days, these ordinary tasks, and even the regular rest have added up to more than you could ever have predicted.
For he has done it.
And it is finished well.
Christie Purifoy earned a PhD in English Literature at the University of Chicago before trading the classroom for a farmhouse, a garden, and a blog. Her book Roots and Sky: A Journey Home in Four Seasons is out now from Revell. Connect with her and discover more about life in a Victorian farmhouse called Maplehurst on Instagram, facebook, and twitter.