Known

I've been a Christian for nearly all of my life (I reckon I was about 5 when I made a conscious decision to follow Jesus).  You'd think that after 25 years of doing this I'd have pretty much got it worked out.

Unfortunately this is most definitely not the case.  Here's a few example why:

I'm rubbish at telling people about Jesus.  I know, I know.  I totally want to be That Person (the one who seems to convert someone every time they get on a plane) but I have never, ever, EVER started a conversation with a total stranger and included the line 'It's funny you should mention that because I'm actually a Christian.  Let me tell you why...'.

I totally get that God has a heart for the poor and oppressed and whenever I hear a talk about sex trafficking or war orphans or Christians in North Korea I get fired up and think 'I must help them!' and 'Lord, sent me!'.  And then I get home and forget everything in the panic of thinking, 'Bother.  I forget to buy more milk...'.  Even the one very small thing that I am doing - sponsoring a girl in Uganda - I'm pretty rubbish at because I forget to pray for her and pretty much never write.  I then feel incredibly guilty when she sends me letters saying, 'God bless you and your family.  I pray for you every day...'  Gulp.

I fit any Bible reading I need to do in to the time it takes me to eat a bowl of cornflakes (and even that gets shortened when my son decided to throw his bowl on the floor and I rush to clean it up).  I pretty much never memorise Bible verses, the phrase 'meditate on the Word' scares me (any form of silence and I'm pretty much asleep) and don't even get me started on fasting.  I do pray.  But it tends to veer towards crisis-management style prayers.  "God, I have no idea what I'm doing here.  Should I make him eat his scrambled eggs or just let him get down and play?  Help!'.  Whilst I find it commendable that the Apostle Paul seemed to pray for every Christian individually and by name in the ENTIRE province of Asia but I suspect he wasn't the primary carer of a 15 month old.

I am really, really good at developing the gifts of the Holy Spirit.  Providing I am on my own. And I've had more than 7 hours sleep.  And I've been well-fed.  Stick me in a car in rush hour traffic with an irritated toddler who wanted his dinner 30 MINUTES AGO and any thoughts of kindness and peace, let alone patience, vanish in a puff of smoke.  Especially towards other drivers who CUT IN AND IGNORE THE FACT THAT I HAVE A "BABY ON BOARD STICKER".

I could get depressed about this.  Actually sometimes I do.  But, by enlarge, I've been encouraged of late.  My life looks considerably less holy than it did when I was a single 23 year old with ample time to spend on quiet times and sleep.  But that's okay.  God knows that this is a tough season.  He knows I'm perpetually exhausted.  He knows I love my son - even when my voice is going up an octave and I'm shrieking "Why on earth would you want to throw your porridge on the wall?  Why??!!'.

He knows me.

"My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me." [emphasis mine] John 10:27

I recently read this, 'Any first century listener would've recognised the nuances of a shepherd calling his sheep.  A shepherd was intimately acquainted with every single sheep in his flock.  He knew their habits, their personalities, and their tendencies.  In fact, he developed a specific call for each sheep. A shepherd could stand outside the flock and make a particular call, and that one sheep would separate from the flock and come to him.  Every sheep had its own special language with the shepherd.' (Out of the Spin Cycle by Jen Hatmaker)

Throughout the constant noise that is my current life, I'm realising that the Shepherd is still talking to me.  I may not always hear him, but he is there.  Guiding me.  Laughing with me.  Holding me.  And most of all teaching me.  He still knows how best to get important life lessons drilled in, and he still knows what's the best way to teach me.  He has a specific language for me and a specific call for me - in spite of my many, many failings.  And for that I am immensely thankful.