"For every beast of the forest is mine, and the cattle upon a thousand hills." Psalm 50:10
Last night I embarked upon my least favorite task of all time -- fundraising. After Tatiana arrived in December and God miraculously resolved our remaining balance ($4300) via one perfectly timed phone call on the very day everything was due, I thought I was finished. Done. End of story. Finito.
In actuality, God only granted me a four-month breather before gently nudging me out into the pasture again to go gather up some more cows.
A $2800 deadline looms before us. As Friday, April 22, creeps closer I vacillate between two polar emotions. It's as if two sides war within me. One side is completely terrified we will fail. The other rests in total peace, knowing that if God brought us to this, He will also bring us through it. At any moment of the day I can be found camping on one side or the other -- peace or perplexity. Like a nervous tightrope walker, I teeter-totter back and forth between the two.
But, the more I fundraise, the more I think I'm coming to a better understanding of all of this. Yes, God owns the cattle on a thousand hills, but how grateful would I be if He didn't bless me with the opportunity to work for it? My value of His blessings increases exponentially when I actively labor to obtain them. And I come to know Him so much more intimately when I am asking, no begging, for His blessing on everything I do.
I know I can do nothing without Him. And so it is that as I stretch myself to the very limit emotionally, physically, and financially, I feel His hand on my shoulder. I hear the gentle throb of His heartbeat in rhythm with mine as we work side by side to bless another life. He asks me to do this because He wants me to work with Him ... to be a part of His team. And, in the process, I am learning to be grateful.
So today, as we complete this first twenty-four hours of yet another round of fundraising, I ask for one thing ... prayer. Please pray for God's provision, pray for ideas, pray for peace for my heart, and pray for the kids we are trying to help.
And now, I must bid you adieu as I climb back in the saddle and ride off into the sun setting behind a thousand hills. I'm pretty sure there's more cows out there somewhere.