When You Think What You Do Doesn’t Count

It takes courage to dream big, audacious dreams. Sometimes, it takes more courage — once you’ve seen those dreams begin to come to pass — to leave them behind to follow God.

Our sight can become blurred when we are swept up into the current of all things current. We can be pulled into the mainstream and forget the main thing.

Last year, I got drawn in. My vision of the prize got blurred when I saw other people’s accomplishments — ones that seemed natural for the course I was on — and made them my own goals.

We can see another’s success, how they are celebrated, be enticed and say, “That’s what I should do!” And miss the mark, entirely — the mark for the prize of the upward call of Christ for us.

I was beginning to see accomplishments in my own life, yet I was sorely missing the mark.

A question came from God. A question I couldn’t answer right away. One I didn’t fully understand, but was somehow aware I needed to weigh its cost before answering.

The question, “Can you be satisfied with a success in Me that’s quiet.” 

Quiet?

That’s not the same as small. Size has little relevance in the the Kingdom of God, in God’s eyes. We put the relevance on size. He wasn’t asking me to embrace a small success. He was asking me to embrace a quiet one.

Was I willing to follow Him, even if it meant He may be the only one that sees what I do? Was I willing to pay a high price, a sacrifice of time, of energy, of emotions, of resources, whatever it may be, but only He know about it? 

In the fall of last year, I was at a conference. In the bathroom of the hotel I happened to glance down at the tile floor and see a small neatly folded pile of clothes that looked a lot like a pair of pajamas. They were my roommate’s.

My first thought was, they shouldn’t be on the floor. So, carefully picked them up, and placed them on the shelf of the vanity that was just a few inches from where the clothes laid. In an instant, I heard God speak into my heart, “I keep count. I remember the good things you do in secret.”

In the next breath, I was moved to weeping.

God keeps account of the good you do in secret, that no one else knows about, but Him.

I thought quickly about all the things I’ve done in secret that no one has seen, all the time I’ve given, sowing seeds for a future harvest. The effort, energy, heart and soul I’ve poured out for others as offerings to God, that I don’t have an account of.

Yet, He’s telling me, He does.

Am I content with a success in God that no one sees? Can I work in secret with the same fervor, passion, diligence, and commitment as if there was a multitude gazing, and a crowd pouring out accolades, when there is not a soul watching?

No one, but Him.

Can I work without the promise of a reward in this world, in order to receive it in the next?

This is not an easy yes. This is a refining.

And though I pray the words, “May my most passionate pursuit always be of you, Lord.” I find myself, often, with wandering eyes and a wayward heart.

But when the Creator of the universe speaks in more than a whisper, “I keep count,” as I take a half of a second to pick someone’s clothes up off the floor, it somehow makes every seemingly small and insignificant task worth doing, for Him.

And I’ve always believed when we know God is pleased and takes joy in us — that it gives us strength. The joy of the Lord, the Lord’s joy in us, is our strength.

And God’s pleasure and His joy are worth living for.

 

Yes.

 

Joining in community with a dear friend, Emily. You’ll love her.

COPYRIGHT

Michele-Lyn Ault
2017

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