After my confession blog two weeks ago about putting my novel at the foot of the cross, God’s been remaking me. It’s moment-by-moment as if He’s forming me at the Potter’s wheel.
I’m talking less and listening more.
He whispers without words through friends and family, and even through simple, everyday happenings.
First, it was the eggs.
Almost every day, my husband puts fresh eggs on the kitchen counter. He doesn’t say anything. He spreads them out on a paper towel beside the sink. These eggs look like where they’ve been. They’re dirty. They’re covered in chicken poop and laying feed.
They’re also fragile and delicate–and on their way to being beautiful. But it takes a quiet heart to discover their beauty.
Over the past few years, I’ve broken plenty of eggs by getting frustrated and impatient. By having a bad attitude.
Why doesn’t he clean them himself? He doesn’t even ask if I mind. He just plops them on the counter and walks off.
See what I mean? Ungrateful. Missing the miracle of the moment.
Sort of like two weeks ago.
I felt like God had plopped an impossible assignment on my desk.
I thought He’d called me to write novels. But then He asked me to put all my hard work at the foot of the cross and get to know Him better. But how? I had work to do!
I felt stranded in the middle of nowhere–with a big mess to clean up.
Or so it seemed.
But His ways aren’t mine. Neither is His timing or His plans.
He let me “break a lot of eggs” before I got desperate enough to say,
“Help me. I need You. I can’t make it a day without You.”
So, standing at the kitchen sink, I kept my heart still and quiet and carefully washed the dirty egg. Then I dried it and marked it with the day’s date–just like God is doing with me.
Before I closed the lid, I said a quick prayer. Nothing fancy. Just honest and grateful.
A complete dozen. Thank You, Lord. You provide.
One tiny prayer.
One giant shift in attitude.
This new path I’m walking isn’t a race. I have no idea where He’s leading me. I’m not in control, and I don’t have all the answers.
But I can promise you this–
A new life begins with brokenness and rises from a quiet heart. Click to tweet.
P.S. The eggs were my first lesson in keeping a quiet heart. I’m jotting everything down so I won’t forget to tell you!
Have you kept a quiet heart today?
Are you being broken? Be encouraged. God’s at work.