Summer melted away overnight and in Mississippi we’re having a day which more properly belongs in New England. Did it escape from its proper pile in the grand dealing of days, slip south to surprise us?
If I’m ever ready for anything at all, I am ready for fall, each year eager to see its arrival, senses poised to detect the first coolness in the breeze, the first yellowing of a leaf. Suddenly, it seems right to be reading the old literature which I’ve struggled to read and teach for the past two weeks: misty grey days belong to Shakespeare as bright sweaty days do not.
Ready or not, change comes with each new morning. For most things in life I never feel quite prepared: I want to anticipate each potentiality, pack ever item I could need in even the most improbable circumstance, prepare a scripted answer for every question.
We’re supposed to be always ready to give an answer for the hope that is in us, and I never feel adequate for the task. But I am always able to say that He who has called me is faithful. That He who has called me is adequate. That, after all, it does not depend on my willing or on my running (or on my ability to answer well and rationally) but on God who has mercy.
He promises to supply every need of mine according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus. So while I may feel all unready, I trust Him to supply the readiness, as well.
Joining Kate Motaung and friends a day late, writing on her prompt, ready. Read more using the button above.
©2014 by Stacy Nott