Days of Our Lives

"Like sand through the hourglass . . ."

All right. I confess I've never actually seen the show Days of Our Lives. I know the beginning, though, because I'd hear it when I was little and didn't change the channel quickly enough after The Price is Right. I started thinking about it over these past two days, however. Not so much the soap opera, but more the idea of the hourglass.

My small group over these past several weeks has been doing an in-depth study on the book of Acts and the Holy Spirit. We finished the first unit last night and one of the final study questions asked about our "thirst" for the Holy Spirit. I was convicted that I've been fairly bland in my hunger and thirst for more of the Spirit's power.

See, I reached that place that I hate to admit that I've been before. The place where I'm living my life and doing the "spiritual walk" in such a way that I feel like I've got it all figured out and under control. Jesus and I are great. Reading through the Bible is great. God speaks to me "this way." He will move in our church "that way." And so on and so on living in a dangerous state of spiritual contentment, expecting nothing new but being very pleased with His "predictable" faithfulness.

And that's where the picture of the hourglass came in. When I first entered into a personal relationship with God, or a new season of walking with Him, I remember feeling overwhelmed with the greatness of God. Maybe I was entering into a new challenge in ministry or my life and I didn't know how I would make it, and God reminded me of His character. He showed me that He was so powerful and so incomprehensible and so full of love, that I couldn't even imagine how to begin to grasp who He was.

Then, as I walked through the season, and I experienced His faithfulness and I grew in my knowledge of Him, I felt more mature, perhaps, but also prideful in my victories, like I had now "figured God out." It was as if I started off with this HUGE concept of God (like the shape at the top of the hourglass) and as I moved through the season of challenge, my idea of God mistakenly got smaller (like the shape in the middle of the hourglass).

What He's so patiently reminding me of now is that whatever little I have learned about His character and ways is just that . . . very little. It's as if I've passed through this hourglass shape, thinking I was reaching the end of my season or lesson with Him, only to realize that I had only come through the center and my renewed picture of God is just as big (or bigger) than it was at first (like the bottom of the hourglass shape). The more I learn about Him, the more I realize just how much I have to learn.

I pray for a renewed hunger, vision, and thirst for the Holy Spirit's presence in my life and guidance through each and every moment. I desire to live a life that's a predictably consistent example of His faithfulness and character, but that's unpredictably anticipating a work of God that's beyond explanation. I pray that that is what marks the days of my life.