I know it’s almost Easter, and not anywhere close to Christmas, but I’ve got Wise Men on the brain.
It could be the big ol’ star I’m chasing (AKA “write that book God keeps whispering about in my ear”). I keep finding myself wandering in the desert, with all the action happening way off in the distance.
Moments like this make me wonder if I got the signs all mixed up along the way. The wise men sought a king, followed a star, and ended up at the door of a carpenter’s son.
When the star hangs above the most common thing in the world, disillusionment beckons.
Of course, on the AD side of history, the commonness seems like just part of a larger, more amazing story named “Jesus”, I wonder if the Wise Men felt a little disappointed when they stared at Mary standing there with little Jesus on her hip.
Am I willing to chase a dream and end up handing my treasure over to a powerless baby? Deep in my sinful heart, my answer is “No.”
Frankly, that scares me.
Because that answer speaks of deeper things, it hisses with my own agenda. Apparently, I don’t want to be the person who accepted God’s call to do His “thing” unless it brings me to a perfect fairy tale ending.
All these dark bubbles of fear and selfishness are proof that God is a genius at loving girls with broken souls. He calls me out of darkness by hanging the star over the door to my own will, and His light leads me out of myself and deeper into Him.
Whose dream is it, after all? For whose glory is this “thing” done? For whose pleasure do we live?
The piercing truth is simple: God’s dreams involve more dying than I may like.
Maybe the Wise Men were confused. Maybe Mary told them her story so they would understand better. But maybe she didn’t. Maybe they just looked up, saw that the star did, indeed, hang above that house, and maybe that was enough for them.
In the end, they accepted the purpose of their journey was to find this baby. We know that because they gave him their gifts. They poured out riches meant for a King at the feet of a carpenter’s son.
The imperfect ending to my dream might be one small piece God’s majestic plan.
We all have dreams God has given us. We all have gifts God has written into our stories. We are meant to pour our gifts into our dreams and then watch God do as He pleases with all of it.
We are made to love and obey God with no strings attached.
It’s confusing here in the desert.
It’s hard to keep walking when we don’t really know where we are going.
It’s strange to think I am supposed to write a book that may crash and burn. But I would rather go down in a blaze of glory for Christ than never muster the faith to light a tiny match.
Look up, and see God’s star hanging overhead. We stand wonderfully close to the King of all things.
The disillusionment dissolves in the light of His glorious star. We are right where we are meant to be, and the happiest of all endings is just over the horizon….
