What We Miss When We Rush

What We Miss When We Rush

September 18, 2014

“Yours, LORD, is the greatness and the power and the glory and the majesty and the splendor, for everything in heaven and earth is yours.” 1 Chronicles 29:11a (NIV)

Lysa TerKeurst

A few years ago, I had the amazing privilege to meet BJ. He was sitting in front of me on a flight and made sure to welcome me the minute I took my seat. It didn’t take long for BJ to make everyone around us aware of how excited he was to be on the plane.

His voice was loud, his exclamations seemed a bit childlike for a man his age, and his stuttered words made it difficult to completely understand him.

But one thing was unmistakable to me — his passionate embrace of the magnificent.

As we rose into the sky he clapped and bounced in his seat. His eyes were wide as he turned to the man sitting next to him and exclaimed, “The clouds are huge!”

That’s when the nudging on my heart started. This gentle prodding to ignore the task-oriented part of me wanting to get work done. A rush-like whisper tripped over those boundaries I’d erected to keep my thoughts focused and orderly.

Embrace this moment, Lysa. Notice him. Notice Me.

The decision to pay attention to BJ was a Best Yes for me. Because there are signs of God everywhere, if we choose to see them.

Looking back on that day, 1 Chronicles 29:11 comes to mind, “Yours, LORD, is the greatness and the power and the glory and the majesty and the splendor, for everything in heaven and earth is yours.”

Everyone else on the plane that day looked grumpy and annoyed and put off by their travels.

But BJ saw what no one else did. We were in a fast moving tube, taking off from the ground, flying through the clouds, being transported from one place to another many miles away in a matter of minutes. Minutes!

And there we all sat, grumpy. Not even bothering to look at the clouds and notice.

We’d lost our passionate embrace of the magnificent.

I wanted to rush through this part of my trip so I could get on with what? Rushing to get my luggage? Rushing to get a cab? Rushing to get to a meeting? No wonder I’m so bored.

When we landed, BJ could hardly contain his excitement. He clapped and jumped into the aisle of the plane. When he spotted his mom waiting for him, he got even louder pumping his arms into the air telling everyone that was his mom.

“My mom! My mom! Right there — there she is — that’s my mom!” BJ cheered.

His mom’s face reddened but kept the sweetest, gentlest look as she threw her arms around her man-boy. She sweetly pressed her finger to her lips signaling him to quiet down just a bit.

That’s when I reached her. With a lump in my throat and tears cresting my eyes I touched her shoulder, “Your son is amazing. Really, really amazing.”

Some would say BJ has special needs. I understand that. So does one of my kids. But I wonder if we are wrong in giving that label to someone who has such capacity to not lose the wonder of life.

I wonder if I was really the one with special needs that day. After all, I needed BJ way more than he possibly needed me.

As I reached BJ’s mom, I wanted to tell her more of my story. I wanted to throw my arms around her and tell her about the time a teacher told me my child was no longer a good fit for their school with “test standards to uphold.” I wanted to tell her about how I cried myself to sleep that night feeling the deepest rejection I’d ever known.

I wanted to tell her how I walked to my child’s bedside in the middle of the night and begged God to make the connections work in his brain so he could read and excel and have the kind of future I desperately wanted for him.

I wanted to tell her how I got mad at God and questioned Him.

I wanted to tell her. Because I knew she’d understand.

But as I touched her shoulder all I could get out was how amazing her son was. And then my throat did that lockdown thing and I knew better than to stand there and drip tears and snot on her. So, I walked away. And though I was crying, I was smiling.

Her son has such a rich, wonderful purpose on this earth. His joy ministered deeply to me that day. God assured my heart that He has a wonderful plan for all His children. All!

God used him.

This man-boy, who I’m convinced has the world’s greatest gift for teaching others about joy and the passionate embrace of the magnificent.

Dear Lord, unrush me. I don’t want to miss one more moment. Help me learn to see the magnificent today. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

TRUTH FOR TODAY:
Psalm 138:8a, “The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me;” (ESV).

RELATED RESOURCES:
If you feel like you’ve set your life to the rhythm of rush and wish things could be different, click here to get your copy of Lysa’s new book, The Best Yes.

Connect with thousands of other women just like you who want to embrace the magnificence in every moment through Proverbs 31 Ministries’ Online Bible Study of The Best Yes. It begins Mon., September 22! Click here to sign up today.

Do you long to know God’s will and see His activity in your daily life? If so, don’t miss The Best Yes FINAL webcast with Lysa TerKeurst and special guest Karen Kingsbury, author of Angels Walking. Join us Monday, September 22 at 8 pm EDT for a powerful Bible teaching from Lysa, a great discussion with Karen Kingsbury and lots of giveaways! Find all the details at www.lysaterkeurst.com.

REFLECT AND RESPOND:
What everyday things have you been taking for granted? Take time to write down five of those things. Then, list reasons why these ordinary things are actually special blessings from God.

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© 2014 by Lysa TerKeurst. All rights reserved.