The Day I Stopped Making God Work For Me

When I began to take my faith seriously after the birth of my firstborn, lots of things turned around in my life. After the turmoil of being young unwed parents passed, things began to look on the up and up for our little family. Over time in my early 20s the love of my life and I got married, bought a home, started a business, added to our family, and enjoyed life to the fullest. As a couple we dedicated our time, efforts, friendships, and home to God’s plan for us and things just kept getting better and better. Sure, little troubles came, but the overwhelming theme was so much happiness. It’s as if blessings were being thrown at us. People around us always commented on our cute family and “perfect lives.” I’m lying if I said I didn’t love it. After being told as a teenage mom that your “life is ruined,” it’s like a big “IN YO FACE” when you get a happily ever after instead.

If I’m brutally honest (which I am to a fault) it felt like I had God in my back pocket. My heart was definitely loving towards Jesus, my worship was pure, and I did my very best to check off the “Christian checklist.” Overall, however, I had God working for me. He was just like the genie in Aladdin granting all my wishes to fulfill my heart’s desires.

Now here I am, creeping up to 30 (still only 28, just to confirm ;D) in the best times of my life. Complete, even with the scalloped white picket fence, literally. I do what God wants me to (within my comfort level of course) and He gives me a sweet little life. I’m not too upset with the set up I have going, really. I mean, what more can I ask for?