Anticipation

For we are all His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand that we should walk in them. ~ Ephesians 2:10


We have some friends that live two doors down from us.  Their first child, Ruby, is about 16 months old.  Last Sunday, they all showed up on our doorstep with a little bowl of three perfectly dyed eggs.  And Ruby had food coloring all over all over her - up her nose, on her chin and all over her hands.  As we stood there on the front porch talking, I thought about how much fun it is to dye eggs each spring for Easter.  There is so much to take into consideration to get everything just right - the temperature of the water, holding the eggs just right so no fingerprints are left and mixing the exact amount of food coloring for all those favorite colors like periwinkle and sunset orange or sky blue and mint green.  No matter what I serve for Easter dinner, there is always a centerpiece of towered dyed eggs and a bouquet of fresh spring flowers.  As I watched them walk away, I smiled at Randy and laughed as I said, “Easter eggs have come early this year.”   And I knew why too.  They couldn’t wait for Easter weekend to watch her dye those eggs.  The anticipation was unbearable because there is nothing more exciting than watching your kids do the simple ordinary things each season like bake Christmas cookies, wave sparklers on the 4th of July or hunt those just dyed Easter eggs hidden around the yard after Sunday dinner - especially when they are doing them for the very first time.  Somehow though, even as they grow older, the excitement doesn’t really fade away.  There may be less blue dye up their nose and more on the counter top that won’t fade for a month, but there is always still something eventful to laugh over, to enjoy, a new story to add to that ever-growing family history book.  


I wonder if God delights in those ordinary things that He sees us do when we are walking in the good works He prepared for us to walk in.  I want to believe He does.  I want to believe that when we are obediently following Him as He calls us to, it is just like watching our child dye those eggs or wave that sparkler. 


What does He think when we step out in faith with a joyful and excited heart not really knowing what is going to happen, yet trusting in Him and staying the course all the same?  Is it like watching your child cross the street for the first time alone?  We whisper those instructions, with our heart beating a thousand miles an hour, that we know they will never hear as we watch from afar.  Look both ways.  Watch for cars.  Look again and again and again.  We gasp as they take that first step off the curb and it seems forever until they reach the other side in safety.  Then they are out of our sight and we fight the urge to not sneakily follow them all the way to their destination.  So I wonder, is God standing there at the edge of Heaven whispering words of encouragement even though we might not be listening? Is His heart beating with excitement as we step up and accept the responsibility He has laid at our feet hoping we remember He is there, He is watching and that He is only a whisper away?


I think it is just like that.  


In the end, I think it is just like the one day, you leave your child dying eggs while you switch out laundry wondering what bizarre and crazy colors you are going to end up with and you return to find periwinkle and sunset orange and sky blue and mint green.  You smile and you couldn’t be happier when they sit on the table in a perfect dyed egg tower centerpiece.  Because I believe with each year that passes, we are perfected under God’s ever watchful eye.  I think when God looks down upon us in these moments, He is smiling and He is proud.  I think He is pleased not because we are perfect, but because when we follow obediently in His footsteps, we are perfect enough.  The truth is, we never, ever, have to worry that we might hear him wrong because we have a God who is bigger than our mistakes.  He can still use it to His greater good in His own perfect way.  And when He pastes the story in the only history book that matters, that blue dye we spilled all over the counter top will be more beautiful than anything Michelangelo ever painted.