FATHER PUSHY

Did you ever notice that Jesus is sorta pushy? Almost bully-like?

So, I’m minding my own business, relaxing in my present state of mind. Just lounging. Finally getting a hang of my responsibilities. Feeling somewhat secure in my life. I got rid of clutter, noise, and bad vibes. I spent a hella lot of time cleaning house, internally and externally. My daily routine is peaceful. No surprises. Just chill.

Then . . . I feel a little push. A gentle nudge, if you will. Right in the small of my soul. I feel the inkling to move. Improve. Shake things up a bit. Step out of my comfort zone. So, I argue with myself and tell myself . . . that’s not me. I don’t want to shake up a good thing. I don’t want to ride the waves. I’m comfortable. Relatively free of stress. Contented. Relaxed in the mess that’s left. So . . . I try to shake the feeling He put in me to shake things up but . . . to no avail. His spiritual fingers poke and prod on my psyche, edging me forward, for His sake. And mine.

Then God dangles some things in front of my face. Pretty things. Good things. His things. Things I know if I latch onto, they’ll change my life. For my good. For the betterment of me. To elevate me. Secure a better future for me. Propel me even more to the heights I’ve been seeking and praying for. Yet, I don’t want to rock my boat. I don’t want to ride the waves. I don’t want to begin again. I don’t want to take two years to be comfortable in my newfound comfortableness, yet again. I’m not interested.

Ah . . . but the thing He put in front of me . . . that’s just there . . . looking at me . . . swaying and hanging within arms reach . . . it’s meant for me. He made it just for me. It’s all mine. If I want it. All I have to do is reach out and snatch it. With the quickness. Before He gives it to someone else.

So, I have no choice but to rise to His challenge. I have no choice but to go for His prize . . . the blessing that He’s suspended in front of me, for me and me alone. I have no choice but to do what He wants me to do and secure what He’s willed for me. I have no choice but to elevate myself to the heights I’ve sought, the heights Hes set me up so lovely for. I have no choice but to be uncomfortable as He moves me to where I’m supposed to be. Where He wants me to be. I have no choice but to let Him push me into His destiny for me.

For if I don’t, His prickly fingers will gently gnaw and nibble away at me until I either do what He wants, for His will . . . or until He blesses someone else who’s up for the task.