I woke up this morning with fear and doubt.
I’ve been working on The Prodigal Project for three years. And it is going well. We have a terrific screenplay, some talented and energetic folks working hard to move the story from the page to the screen, and a growing number of partners gathering around Belltower Pictures. Together we’re building a community around the idea of telling great stories that reveal spiritual truth.
There are still many hurdles to be cleared. We still need to raise a significant amount of money. There are insurance, legal, accounting, crew and cast, distribution and marketing issues to be resolved.
I’m having lots of conversations about the project. And without exception, everybody I talk with responds enthusiastically, affirming that we’re doing something that really needs to be done. Most of these conversations result in more creative ideas and another partner joining the family.
But still… doubt and fear grip my gut with predictable regularity. And that’s where I started this day.
This morning I wrote in my journal – “Oh Lord what am I doing? I’m foolish and naïve. Maybe I should just drift quietly into retirement oblivion.”
A full-on pity party was cranking up.
Then I began my daily Bible reading with Psalm 90. I didn’t really pick it out. It was just the next one in my regular reading pattern. It ends with –
“Establish the work of our hands for us –
Yes, establish the work of our hands.”
I wondered what that really means. So I googled it. Here’s what’s the famous 19th century British Baptist preacher Charles Spurgeon wrote about it:
Let what we do be done in truth, and last when we are in the grave; may the work of the present generation minister permanently to the building up of the nation. Good men are anxious not to work in vain. They know that without the Lord they can do nothing, and therefore they cry to him for help in the work, for acceptance of their efforts, and for the establishment of their designs. The church as a whole earnestly desires that the hand of the Lord may so work with the hand of his people, that a substantial, yea, an eternal edifice to the praise and glory of God may be the result. We come and go, but the Lord’s work abides. We are content to die, so long as Jesus lives and his kingdom grows. Since the Lord abides for ever the same, we trust our work in his hands, and feel that since it is far more his work than ours he will secure it immortality. When we have withered like grass, our holy service, like gold, silver, and precious stones, will survive the fire. (The Daily Spurgeon)
Thank you for that encouragement, Lord. Now… on with the day. “Establish the work of my hands!”