Dare to Believe

She wanted the tree left up for her birthday.  Every year it is this way.  And like a good mom, I comply.  But the birthday is over and the tree came down . . . finally.  Sigh.  The resumed order and extra space is a breath of fresh air, a splash of cold water; invigorating, to say the least. 

Our victories, though glorious, become stale if we camp there. 

Pitching tents on the shores of the Red Sea might have seemed ideal.  Enemies destroyed, a natural barrier in place, fresh water, level ground, and praise songs all day long.  However, that was not God's plan, nor the best for His people.

Instead, God led them into the wilderness . . . intentionally.  And in that desert, Israel became hungry and thirsty. . . on purpose.  God's intent was that His people might truly know Him, preparing their hearts for worship.  

This brings me to my theme for the year . . . hungry.

The Red Sea was elementary.  God led His people as a shepherd leads sheep, lambs on His shoulders.  But I'm ready to move on to the oxen at His side.  That place where His yoke is easy and His burden is light.  (Matt. 11:28-30)  I desire a deeper level in my relationship with God. 

Yet, unless I act on what He has said, I remain stagnant, sitting at a green light.  Hunger is not much good without belief leading to action.  They work hand in hand.  Believe.  That is my challenge for this year.    

The words spoken by Elizabeth to Mary, "Blessed is she who believes that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished," still linger in my heart.  (Lk. 2:45)  They will not let go. 

One decoration I did not pack away, was a simple nativity from childhood.  Receiving much wear and tear, all that remains is a shell with Mary and Jesus tucked inside.  Timid, fearing to tread too close, is, not a donkey, camel, sheep, or cow, but . . . a fawn.

It whispers, dare to believe.  

While hunger for God defends, keeping my trembling from flight, faith is my offense, stepping forward to come and see.  



I've camped at past victories long enough.  God is telling me to move forward.  He is about to do something new, something deep, if I have the courage to believe.  Yet, therein lies my fear, this lack of courage . . . hence, the hunger.

I am desperate for You, God.  I know what it is You ask me to do, but I don't have the courage.  Make this hunger so intense that it holds me fast, keeps me pursuing.  Help me believe when I cannot see.