When my mom taught me to drive, we started in a parking lot on a clear day. Then we moved to the road. Then, when I had practiced in perfect driving conditions for a long time, I started driving in rush hour traffic. At night. In bad weather. I re-learned some basics every time, and years later, when I got a stick shift, I learned some of those driving skills all over again.
I learned to wait on the Lord when I was single, and childless. I learned what it meant to seek His face, and find my joy in Him alone, even while I was asking and hoping for something. Lately, though, it seems I've taken the old lies that my hard work and striving make any sort of real difference, and wrapped myself up in them as if they were a warm, familiar old blanket. Only, this blanket isn't peaceful and restful; it's stressful and brings a gnawing worry, and an inability to find comfort in His provision.
You know what I want to be remembered for? I don't want to be known as a mover and a shaker, a hard worker, or the girl you go to when you want to get things done. I want to be known as His beloved. I've asked Him to build His Kingdom through me, and I know He will, but it's not going to be because I'm working for it. The only effort I'm making--the only effort that ever really matters--is to know Him more.