I am here, not by personal ambitions, but by the move of You. At first arrival, I was in awe and in constant expectation of what is to come. When my feet felt firmly planted in my new surrounding, You began entrusting me with work. I was not meant to sit and simply soak in everything for myself, but to fulfill what You planned. So I plowed, I raked, I sowed, I watered. Tired, I stopped to look at the waters before me, the stories of miracles that left it's depths pulling at my heart. I often find myself putting down my tools and wandering toward the crystal still water. Not a ripple. Not the slightest sign of life, but the glow deep inside calls to me. "Wait for it. Wait for it." So I pick up my tools and continue the work You entrusted to me. Day after day, night after night. Much time has passed now and my soul grows weak from my heart's desperate longing and from the work that seems to bear no fruit. With everything in me I cry, "Lord! Stir the water that I may see the wondrous work of your hands." Laying down my tools again, I sit by the water and stare. The crystal, motionless water and its deep glow seeming to mock my hearts longing to see the impossible. To see what I KNOW You are capable of. Wiping the tears of brokenness from my face, I stand up to leave the field and wander into nowhere. Anything would be less painful that the teasing glow of the water. As I began to step away, I heard it again, "Wait for it. Wait for it." With my hope and expectation barely aflame, I pick back up my tools and pray, "Lord, stir the waters!".
