I'm learning to give thanks for things that make me humble. What a blessing in disguise when we experience failure, sickness, less-than-perfect children, a rebuke from a boss or superior, moods we can't manage, laundry we can never finish, schedules we can't control, or any host of things that cry out: You are not capable--in your own strength--of living your life! You are not as great as you think you are!
I'm sitting in church, upset about all the hard things happening. I'm skimming the first chapters of the book of Isaiah, thinking about my own proud heart. I find the most unusual verb: whistle. God whistles twice in the book of Isaiah. The prophet Isaiah says God whistles for us--getting our attention--so we'll turn to Him. I start chuckling in my seat. I picture myself running off into the distance, into all my own plans and in all my own prideful independence.
Then, I hear that long, sweet whistle calling me home.
That's what these disappointments mean. I need God. He's calling me home.
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Journal: Is God whistling for you through this situation you're in?
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