The power of God, fiery though it is

"While I was looking, thrones were put in place. One who had been living forever sat down on one of the thrones. His clothes were white as snow, and his hair was like pure wool. His throne, mounted on fiery wheels, was blazing with fire, and a stream of fire was pouring out from it. There were many thousands of people there to serve him, and millions of people stood before him."
Daniel 7: 9-10

I believe we forget the power and, well, awesomeness of God from time to time. It is our greatest mistake.

I'll use a small, small example. When I was a senior in high school, I took typing. I had tried to do some typing in previous years, working on a "book" when I was 12 on an old typewriter my cousin owned. But I took typing not because I envisioned what would become a career and beyond, which I could not have had had I not learned to type, but because Penny Covington was in the class. I was a tad smitten with her at the time.

The most amazing thing happened. I learned to type; I never went out with Penny Covington that I recall.

Several million words typed later, here we are. To me, that's a God thing, a power that can't be described, though Daniel tries his best.

I believe that illustrates how this whole "plan" thing works. God did not make me take typing. God did not make me love to write. God did not make me write columns, stories, books. He did, however, help nudge me along. I believe those gentle nudges are from God every bit as much as Red Sea partings.

Look at your own life and see where if part A hadn't been somehow joined to part B, where would you be? That's this power thing in action.

Thrones are put into place. One sits down. Clothes are white as snow. Hair is like pure wool. His throne, mounted on fiery wheels is ablaze. A stream of fire is pouring out.

And many thousand stand there with millions looking on.

The power of God. Do you see it, still, in your life?

I'm a weak, weak vessel. I don't know what I'm doing much of the time. This piddling blog gets turned down by my own conference. I'm not even invited to a family picnic by my own peers.

Yet God somehow uses me. That's His power, certainly not my own.

Wonder where Penny Covington is?