You have brought a great many things to the Lord just now, and I am glad of it, for the soul that knows its own poverty is the one He delights to fill. You began by saying, “Apart from Me you can do nothing,” and that is the truest word you could speak. It is not a weakness to confess it; it is the beginning of strength, for when you come to the end of yourself you have arrived at the starting-place of God’s power. And notice how tenderly He receives such a prayer. He does not brush aside the small things, the furniture order, the car part, the assembling of that AC unit, as if they were beneath Him. No, He who counts the stars also counts the hairs of your head, and the little matters are not little to love.
Think of it this way. When a child tugs at his father’s coat and says, “Papa, help me fasten this button,” the father does not say, “Come back when you have something important.” He stoops down with a smile and does it. And you are God’s child. He has already given you the unspeakable gift of His Son, Christ Jesus, who is made unto you wisdom from God. Will He not then freely give you the wisdom you need to order the right lightweight furniture, to locate the car part, to set up that cooling unit before the heat grows oppressive? The same Lord Christ who once spoke to the furious wind and hushed it to a flat calm can quiet the flutter of your mind and give you a clear, orderly path through the day. This is the way you handle matters wisely, not by leaning on your own understanding, but by trusting His direction in the very next step, then the next.
I hear in your words a longing not only to get things done, but to do them quickly and joyfully. That is a holy ambition. But joy is a fruit of the Spirit, not a product of haste. The world tells you that speed is everything, but the Lord often works at a walking pace, for He has eternity in His hand and He is never flustered. That monk you remembered, the one who practiced the presence of God even while washing dishes, he discovered the secret. He ceased to do his tasks for God and began to do them with God. You, too, may assemble that AC unit, order that furniture, and turn that wrench as one who is yoked with Christ. The work will still be work, but the companionship will sweeten it, and you will find that the joy of the Lord is your strength even while your hands are busy.
You are pulling a heavy oar just now, like those under-rowers in an ancient galley, tugging away while the vessel plows through deep water. But you are not pulling for a harsh taskmaster. You are serving the Lord Christ, and He sits at the helm. He knows when the muscles begin to burn and the sweat beads on the brow. Remember His kindness to Elijah: when the prophet was utterly spent and begged to die, the Lord did not lecture him. He let him sleep, and then He wakened him to a cake baked on hot stones and a cruse of water. Sleep, too, is a gift. Do not think you lose time when you rest your body; it is the best economy of life, my friend, to let the frame have what God has appointed for its renewal. If you are to eat wisely and get to the gym, do so in quiet trust, not in a frenzy, for bodily exercise is of some profit, but cheerfulness of heart is medicine.
You have asked for wisdom as a steward, and that tells me you have grasped the great reality: you are not your own. The minutes of your day, the strength of your body, the money in your purse, even the audiobook credit you are weighing, all are entrusted to you by the Master. But do not let this truth press upon you like a heavy yoke; rather, let it lift you. For the same wise Master who requires faithfulness is the one who supplies the very grace you need to be faithful. He will not mock you by demanding bricks without straw. When you are puzzled about which book to choose, ask Him. When you are searching for a missing thing, whisper a prayer and look around with eyes that expect guidance. I have often found that a lost key or paper is not so much found by frantic searching as by a quiet mind that trusts the Shepherd to lead even in the dark.
You spoke of the enemy and his schemes. It is well to be sober and watchful, but do not let the consciousness of danger cast a shadow over your peace. Our safety does not lie in our own tight grip upon the sword, but in the hand of Him who is able to keep us from stumbling. Look at Jude’s doxology: “To Him who is able to keep you from falling and to present you before His glorious presence without fault and with great joy.” That is your shield and your exceeding great reward. The devil is a beaten foe, Christ has already trampled him down, and every fiery dart that flies your way must first pass the permission of the pierced hand that holds you fast.
So go now into your day, not with a long list of anxious cares, but with your hand in the hand of the Son of God. He who made the heavens and the earth will help you order that furniture, fix that car, and assemble that cooling unit. He will be your wisdom for the audiobook credit, your discipline for the gym, your gentle reminder to eat what is good. He will help you honor your parents and make the most of the fleeting hours. And when you find a missing thing, smile and say, “My Father knew where it was all along.”
May the Lord Jesus Himself, who is your righteousness, your sanctification, and your redemption, fill you with a quiet and expectant joy. May He speed the work of your hands, not with the speed of the flesh that breeds haste and worry, but with the swiftness of a soul that moves in step with its God. And may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, garrison your heart and mind through Christ Jesus. Amen.