Is It Not Enough?

   At the end of my Bible reading this morning, I turned to a pastor's blog listed on the side of another's page of links. A quote from this:

"The world owes you nothing.  Entitlement has swept across our nation like a tsunami, and in its wake is endless debris of unmet expectations."

   We can all get caught up in this attitude and expectation. I know I can.

   Just this morning, I woke up early. Even though the bed was nice and warm, I knew I needed to get up. My last two days had been busy, from the early hours to the nighttime, and I had missed my quiet time both days. When I miss, I feel it. I know I need it, and feel a little guilty about my schedule.

   So I found myself up early, in my quiet room, my computer open to the readings of the day, as I prayed for God to show up. I needed that, not only for that particular time but for guidance for the rest of another pretty busy day. Since I had foregone sleep, I guess I felt like I deserved His presence in a tangible way.

   When I read I could see the words, and I could realize that there was truth there, but just did not see how it was what I wanted in this time. Continuing on through some other sources, I began to get disappointed that God was not making me aware of His presence.

   Was I not entitled to at least hear something profound from Him, after all I had forsaken sleep just to be there and receive? Was it not enough sacrifice on my part to at least get a small notice?

   Then I thought, as I read the quote above, how quick I am to place my own expectations ahead of what God might have for me. After all, did I not pray before falling asleep last night, that He would get me up to hear from Him?

   And was it not enough that He did, and put me in the place where I needed to be? Maybe it was enough that He loved me enough to put me here to hear this message. A message of my supposed entitlements, and the way He takes care of His "sparrows".

   I was reminded of a scene from yesterday. I had an early morning meeting, but had my camera in the car as I drove down the road. Realizing I had a few minutes, I detoured quickly to a spot where I might see how the day began in the east.

   We were due to have rain that day, and the sky was filled with clouds, gray and heavy, hanging over the whole landscape. Then I noticed a line of lighter sky between the layers on the horizon.

   My expectations were of a non-event, a gray cloudy morning, which it was, but still there was that acknowledgement that the sun was rising, given for a brief moment before the rains came, and, with it, the surety that God was still in control.

   It was enough...