God’s choices

It is to no end of my amusement to think that God could have made me into a billionaire. I have a good mind and a diverse set of interests: I think I would have made a great billionaire. Think of the good that I could have done as a very wealthy, committed, evangelical Christian! But God in his wisdom has seen fit to bend me into the shape of a preacher and a teacher of the Gospel. This amuses me to no end. For while I would have made an easy match for a businessman of any number of shades, making me into a preacher has taken some quite violent twisting to get me into shape. I suspect it will continue to require a bit of work on God’s part to force me into this role.

As I said, this affords me no end of amusement. I don’t particularly mind the lack of wealth on my part, but I can already see that, by certain standards, I am quite possibly going to be a very pitiful preacher. Was God so short of willing hands, that he felt obliged to choose me? I doubt it. I was hardly a willing hand myself. Yet something in God’s character determined he would rather me be a preacher than anything else, perhaps like the poor Gipetto, who determined he would rather make a talking marionette than a talking coo-coo clock from his talking block of wood, even though by many standards, a marionette is a silly thing for a poor carpenter to make.

Nevertheless, even though the wood was ungainly for the task, a preacher is what he decided to make of me, because it pleased him. Perhaps it even amused him. And so it amuses me. And this, I think, points to the sovereignty of God: for no amount of badgering could change his mind. And though there are any number of things for which I might have been better suited, I am surely becoming that which he has determined I should be.

Author: KB French

Formerly many things, including theology student, mime, jr. high Latin teacher, and Army logistics officer. Currently in the National Guard, and employed as a civilian... somewhere

One thought on “God’s choices”

  1. makes me think of Jeanne Guyon http://www.thelastdays.net/whoguyon.htm

    A little bird am I
    Shut from fields of air
    and in my cage I sit and sing
    to Him who placed me there
    Well pleased a prisoner to be
    Because, my God, it pleases Thee.

    Not have I else to do
    I sing the whole day long
    and He who most I love to please
    Doth listen to my song
    He caught and bound my wandering wing
    But still He bends to hear me sing.


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