Time to See the Big Picture

What is that noise?! Why is the phone ringing? Was it late…or early? Searching frantically for the phone in the dark, I clean off the bedside table.

“Hey. Are you coming soon?”

Coming? I just went to bed. “Yeah.” I slam the phone down and grope for the clock. The sleepy fogginess fades away as horror strikes me. Surely that was just a wake-up call!? The clock lit up and my heart sinks: the bus to the airport was supposed to leave in six minutes.

This scenario that occurred over nine thousand miles away is not one I’d like to remember. Although I’d be glad to forget that morning, I wouldn’t want to forget many gracious people, and the miracle of making it to the airport in time.

Surely you’ve experienced the gut-wrenching realization of missing your alarm. It happened to me last week. And although it didn’t affect many circumstances or people, my attitude was far worse than the actual situation.

Waking up to my cell ringing, I was frustrated even before stumbling across the room to pick it up. Thinking it was an alarm and not a phone call, I cancelled Dad’s call before I was thinking straight. Dad! He must be at the feedlot waiting for me! In the next ten minutes as I rushed out the door, I spoke words for which I later had to apologize. But worse, as I rushed to leave, as I drove away, as I did my job, as I was returning home … I had a complaining spirit. I was irritated when I should have been grateful. I was griping about a problem for which I should have taken responsibility. My attitude gave me a heavy heart as I worked.

It is only a few miles to drive home—east. And as I drove, God convicted my heart.

I was driving just when the sun rose over the horizon. Instead of bursting flames of light, though, it was a stunning pink crescent. It was subtle, but deep. It was bright, but intriguing. It was so beautiful that I couldn’t believe it.

The sun kept rising until the entire, huge circle was visible, but still it didn’t explode with light. It was simple perfection, ultimate beauty.

I was humbled by how big my God is. I was awed that He would love me when I was complaining against Him. I was amazed that He would reveal a glimpse of His majesty.

God wants me looking to Him, not circumstances. God wants me to be praising His goodness, not falling to Satan’s ploy of selfish complaining. Because when I’m consumed with myself, how can I see God’s big picture?

The heavens declare the glory of God … and God does not give His glory to another. If my life—my words, my attitudes, my actions—is not glorifying God, He will change things so that it does.


P.S. The night before the introductory scenario occurred, it was yours truly who generously offered to provide wake-up calls. Go figure.