Recently I bought a little plaque while I was grocery shopping. The last time I bought some groceries, I saw it and wanted to buy it, but couldn’t afford to. But it was something I knew I had to bring home with me the moment I saw it. So, rather impatiently, I waited, and finally bought it.
It has a design I really like—a little on the girly side, but I don’t care. But what really captured my attention was the words. Usually, the little quotes I see on these little home decorating plaques don’t interest me or capture my attention. Normally, I’d scoff at something like this. I even groaned inwardly when I saw it was yet another variation of the much-quoted, now cliche, kind of corny “Live, Laugh, Love” quote. But for some reason, this quote really captured my attention, as if God were whispering some secret for me to hear.
“Live and Grow / Laugh and Dance / Love the Journey.”
So I bought it. I even got the last one on the shelf, to my delight. I felt like it was God again, encouraging me to buy it. Like He wanted to say something important to me through it, or maybe several things. That I needed to buy it so I could remember the lesson, and think about it each time I saw the plaque. I didn’t know exactly what He wanted to say, but I went ahead and obeyed. I bought it. And I hung it on a nail below my mirror in my bathroom. Each day as I wash my hands, or wash my face, or brush my teeth, I knew I’d be reminded of a lesson I didn’t even know yet.
But God spoke a little more quickly than I expected. That night, as I wrote in my journal, the little plaque came to mind. And God began speaking, teaching me, the first of what I think will be several lessons from this simple little plaque.
At first, God revealed to me the basic reason it spoke so deeply to me. A kind of general, perhaps obvious reason that I nontheless didn’t see. This quote speaks to me about my life, and about both the harships and the blessings I’ve experienced. No, it doesn’t mention sadness or overcoming adversity, like the quotes that usually grab my attention. But this was a neat little quote that enveloped all of what I’m trying to learn as I sit in my counselor’s office.
“Live and Grow.” It may say nothing about “despite poor soil or harsh weather,” but it’s almost like that addition isn’t necessary. Like the general idea is, “No matter whether you are given good soil or poor soil, good weather or bad weather, whether it’s easy or it’s hard—-live. Live your live to the fullest. And grow from all that you experience.”
“Laugh and Dance.” It says nothing about hardship or pain again. But again, it’s almost like mentioning those topics is unecessary. Like the expanded quote would be, “Find the joy in life, no matter what you face. Find a reason to laugh. Find a reason to dance. Life is worth celebrating, even in the hardest times.”
But what originally captured my attention was “Love the Journey.”
As I think about this last line, two things come to my mind: process and God’s design.
My counselor has mentioned to me this idea of process several times. “You want everything to be perfect, and you rob yourself of the joy of the process,” she basically said. I think we were discussing my artwork, but we were talking about life too. When I sketch, I get frustrated easily because I want my drawings to look perfect. Professional grade, even. And I hate that it may take me days, weeks even, to finish one of my projects—I want to just snap my fingers and have it laid out on paper instantly perfect. I hate when I can’t make something absolutely astounding. If my sketches look cartoonish, I get frustrated, let alone if it’s unproportional or uneven. It drives me nuts. And I know I’m the worst critic of myself—a strange may say that I have amazing talent (which I’m grateful to say has happened), but all I can see is every little flaw. And I feel like a failure for them.
It’s true of my life, too. I get so frustrated with myself when I make mistakes. Or even when I have to wait for something good. Pretty much, I want to be perfect, and I want to be perfect NOW. I rush my life away because I keep looking forward, into the future, waiting for that better thing waiting for me down the road. I don’t enjoy life day-by-day. And I don’t enjoy the learning. I want to hurry up and be perfected like purified gold, and not wait for the slow (and often painful) process of being refined through the Refiner’s fire. To be patient as the Refiner draws my dross to the surface, and scrapes it away, being thorough but so slow to my perception.
But art and life are meant to be enjoyed, in every stroke of a pencil or brush, and In every little moment. The process of creating art, and the process of building a life, shouldn’t be rushed—It should be savored. And the process for both art and life shouldn’t be focused on the final outcome, of reaching perfection. Each choice should be focused on making something beautiful as can be—whether it looks perfect or not. We are called to “be perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect,” but Jesus still had to die for our sins. We still fail. But His grace covers our imperfection, and He will one day perfect us. We will never match His righteousness. We can only do our best, by the help of His Spirit, and trust in His mercy and grace. So even here, we focus on making a beautiful life, a beautiful work of art, and not a work of perfection, because we know God will perfect us one day. We can’t do it ourselves.
And now for my second thought: God’s design. God has a reason for everything He does, and for everything He allows. Sometimes, if I’m fully honest, I hate the things I’ve experienced and the choices I’ve made, and the path that my life is on now. But God makes everything work together for my good. Even the evil things. Even my mistakes. Even my sins. Even the sins of others against me. God has richly blessed my life, and I can confess that even remembering all the things that grieve me. God gave me the parents I have for a reason. God gave me the siblings I have for a reason. God allowed me, or caused me, to live in the places I’ve lived for a reason. He allowed certain people into my life to wound me, and others to comfort and heal me. He formed my body to look a certain way, to have certain strengths and weaknesses, to have a certain amount of beauty to it. He gave me a certain amount of intelligence. A certain amount of courage and strength. He gave me all kinds of gifts, and withheld others, all for reasons I don’t understand. And He makes all of these things work together for my good.
There have been many times I’ve hated this journey, this process, that God has led me through. But God is leading me closer to His heart with every breath I breathe, and with every step I take. I may never understand why He has allowed me to suffer at various times of my life, but I know he records and catches my every tear. He is the Healer of my body and my soul. No time is wasted with God. I may never know why He allowed me to suffer through days, or months, or sometimes years of intense loneliness, but He has taught me in those times that “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” And I know that God will hold nothing back that will heal my soul—not even His own Son.
I have hated this journey at times, but I know that all that I go through leads me closer to the heart of Jesus. So I know I need a change of heart, so these truths can sink in and stay. And so I’ll be praying, inviting Jesus into these wounded places, and to bring about something beautiful in spite of these imperfections. I’ll be praying that He teaches me just how to “Live and Grow / Laugh and Dance / Love the Journey.” And I thank God that He’s given me one more day, at least, to make a change my heart. To learn. And to draw closer to His heart—whether in joy or pain.
Lifepress 