Lesson Ten: Give Yourself Fifteen...

...extra minutes, that is.

One simple lesson that has not taken me long to learn is the fact that subways are NOT like driving my car.  They do not depart when I wish to depart.  They do not arrive when I wish to hop on them.  I have been spoiled for many years in driving myself around; the tables have turned.  So, everyone, when planning to arrive at an appointment, be it an audition, an interview, a church service, or a lunch date, allot yourself an extra fifteen minutes.  Yes, it took me three weeks to impress this upon my own brain. 

That being said...

 ¹ The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

Lacking nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  What a thought.  This verse from Psalm 23 was in my reading for this morning; the version I have reads "I shall not want".  Last Sunday at Trinity, despite an entire incredibly thought and prayer-provoking sermon, one simple truth was impressed upon my heart.  And it still has not left me this week--I pray it never does.  The truth is this: We have nothing to prove.  Nothing.  

It would be a lie for me to say that, in my three weeks here, I have felt no pressure to "be" what everyone "wants".  In the audition room, there is pressure to prove oneself worthy as a performer (and as a person, because casting directors want to work with pleasant actors).  In job searching, there is pressure to prove oneself trustworthy and hardworking.  Even in simply exploring and navigating the city, there is pressure to prove oneself capable, smart, street-wise, and punctual.  And in my last post, I talked about the pressure to prove oneself a fashionable, cultured New Yorker. 

We have nothing to prove.  Not to the world, certainly.  And once the power of sin and death has been lifted from our lives, both now and for eternity, we have nothing to prove to the Father.  It is an enormous, almost overwhelming thought that my identity is found in the One who established everything and everyone.  Before creation, He had me in mind.  He had you in mind.  We are His.  We have nothing to prove.  

To think that, in the Lord, I will never be in want delights me.  It encourages me.  It propels me.  It grants me rest.  

² He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
 ³ he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
   for his name’s sake.  

I want to understand how, amidst the crazy pace of life, it's every demand screaming for our attention, we can find an internal, eternal rest in the Lord.  Since we have nothing to prove, and since we have everything we could possibly need, rest is granted to us.  Who does not want to lie down in green pastures, even when the kids are screaming?  Who does not want their soul refreshed, even when they've lost their job?  Who does not want to be guided down the right paths, even when the "right path" is not clear?

Thank you, Lord, that we have nothing to prove.  You give us rest for our souls.