So you’ve done the work to begin. You’ve chipped away at the process, showing up faithfully to the work whether people noticed or not. The steady steps you take allow for tastes of sweet success and potentially bitter disappointment.
“Yes, great, I’m in the process of doing. But why bother?”
What would anyone say after coming through the fire, surviving the gridiron, or emerging from the woods?
Growth comes from the process, and growth is progress.
I think we tend to measure ourselves, whether in value or in purpose, by goals achieved and changes we’ve made because those are the tangible things. We know if we have or haven’t arrived. We can see if what we did worked or didn’t work.
But what about the frustrating middle ground you’re in, which provides a setting to train in trusting God?
What about the arrival that faded in joy, and leaves you wondering what’s next?
What about the practice of rerouting, which can confuse and frustrate us, leading somewhere you didn’t expect?
Life could, I suppose, be entirely stagnant. We could move in circles from task to task, never bothering to lift our heads for perspective. We could move in and out of the mundane without asking if there’s more, or if God is in anything we’re doing.
Here, I think, is where God makes all the difference.
I feel strongly tempted to say that there’s something we can learn from every circumstance, but I don’t think life should become a frantic scavenger hunt for useful things. Some losses hit so hard that the immediate goal becomes survival. Other joys are simply that, joy, and I think that beauty doesn’t always need explanation. By no means will I pretend to understand the cause or purpose behind everything that happens, whether good or evil.
There are a few promises, however, that we should use to combat complacency and persist in The Way God offers, no matter the result.
“If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has gone; behold, the new has come.”
“You were bought at a price.”
“I am with you always, even to the end of the age.”*
These promises are not merely statements of fact. They are core beliefs that have the power to rock our world if we let them. I’m made new! That means that I no longer need to cling to the me that I was at the beginning. I become myself more fully as I chip away, fighting doubt as I hit dead ends and knowing the true nature of contentment wherever I arrive. My value is high no matter what I do, because my Creator sees me as so precious that he sent Jesus to die for me while I chose (and often still choose) to wander away him.
No matter where you are on the journey, I think an important point to remember is that when we persist, we make room for God to work. We can’t possibly do everything, and we can’t make lasting change in our own hearts by sheer willpower. Instead, our choice to obey and open ourselves to what God wants to do in and through us sets us up for long-lasting progress. God doesn’t promise that it will look glamorous, but he promises that the road leads to life, and life to the full.
The road is long, the road is hard, and the road is not clearly cut, other than in the direction of “Love the Lord your God. . . [and] love your neighbor as yourself.”* Sometimes the path itself pales in comparison to the work of learning how to walk well.
And that, my friend, is progress.
Thank you for coming along as I broke down “Doing.” What did you think of it? Has it helped you? Do you have any questions? Let me know how I can help in the comments.
*Bible verses quoted are 2 Corinthians 5:17, 1 Corinthians 6:20, Matthew 28:20, and Mark 12:30-31, from the New International Version (NIV).