Dusty sandals

Last semester, I was in a class in which we walked through all the covenants God makes with mankind, specifically with the nation of Israel.

And if I took anything away, it was this: God makes good on his promises, but his people do not.

Hence the current state of Israel.

They spent 40 years just wandering around because they did not trust that the Lord would feed them, clothe them, get them to where they're supposed to go. He literally split a sea and dried the ground and like a week later they were worshiping a cow made out of melted gold.

We laugh and scoff ("Those silly Israelites!") but I can't be too quick to judge.

Lately, I've felt a lot like a nearsighted Israelite, distrusting God as I brushed red dirt and sea urchins off my sandals.

There has been no reason for me to think that the next year will be any different than previous years when it comes to the faithfulness of God. He put people in my path to give me a salary this year. He gave me close friends, a strong family, a college that I love, a job, other job prospects, community, a husband. He's grown me, shown me how to trust and love and have peace. He's built me up, humbled me, comforted me, strengthened me.

And it doesn't take much to have me running in the opposite direction of him when fear grips my heart. It is all too natural for me to think I've hit a quota on my "good gifts" from the Lord and shoulder all my junk and try to go forward.

Instead, I very rapidly end up careening into some kind of emotional breakdown. Aka the opposite of productive and faithful.

When I don't feel like I have much to sing hallelujah about, I pray for the few things I do have to be multiplied (and I listen to "Multiplied" by Needtobreathe because I did not come up with that on my own).

So maybe I should leave the dust on the sandals as reminders of faithfulness that has been shown and promises of faithfulness still yet to come.