Livin’ in the Dash
Well, hello there, Friend, how ‘bout you come on over and pull up a rocking chair. Now be real sure that you swat that pesky lil’ hungry mosquito ‘a-buzzin’ ‘round your ear ‘cause we are ‘bout to take a journey through a truth deeper than a catfish hole after one o’ them big ol’ Texas rainstorms. John 15:8 tells us that Jesus said, “When you produce much fruit, you are my true disciples. This brings great glory to my Father.” That verse is like the bright porch light on a real dark summer night.
That upright chunk of memory keepin’ watch over a loved one’s restin’ place may look like a plain ol’ rock sitting out there in that peaceful stretch of land where folks who’ve finished their earthly chores go to await that Heavenly roll call among the squirrels, possums, and whatever other mysterious woodsy critter keeps stealing church picnic cornbread, but it’s really a billboard for a life that has already been lived. You get a name, two dates, and that tiny little line in between. That dash may be smaller than a Junebug’s patience, but, friend, it holds every laugh, every tear, every choice, every “Lord help me,” and every moment we tried to follow Jesus without trippin’ over our own spiritual shoelaces.
We can’t control the dates on either side of that lil’ ol’ dash. We can jog, juice, stretch, and swallow supplements that smell like something even a goat would refuse to eat, but Jesus already settled this in Matthew 6:27, asking if worry can add even a moment to our lives. Spoiler alert, friend. It can’t. God alone sets our start date and our finish line. But that dash. Oh, friend, that dash is ours to steward like a coonhound ‘a-mindin’ T-bone steaks grillin’ on the pit.
And according to Scripture, that dash is meant to bear fruit. Not the kind raccoons steal from your garden, but the kind Heaven applauds and celebrates. Revelation 4:11 reminds us that we exist for God’s Own pleasure. Jesus doubles down in John 15:16, saying He chose us to produce lasting fruit. Lasting. Not flimsy like a scarecrow in a big ol’ windstorm.
So, how do we make that lil’ dash count. We’ve got to stay rooted in His Word. We’ve got to share our faith even when our voice shakes like a nervous lil’ rooster. We’ve got to pray, listen, obey, and keep showin’ up. We’ve got to let God use our ordinary days to bring extraordinary glory to Him.
Friend, your dash is a glorious gift. It’s a real holy stretch of time filled with all kinds of chances to bring honor to the One who handcrafted you. Make it count like a wise old hoot owl guardin’ the barnyard at night. Make it shine like a bright lantern shinin’ on a real dark trail. Make it ring out like a big ol’ church bell echoing right on into eternity.
Father, thank You for the wonderful gift of the dash You have given me. Help me use every day to honor You, bear fruit for Your kingdom, and follow Your will with joy. Guide my steps, strengthen my heart, and let my life bring glory to You. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Now, goodness gracious alive, as you begin to wander back off this front porch and into your everyday world, put this real down deep in your heart that your dash may be real small, but it’s real mighty. It’s the stretch where Heaven leans in to watch what you will do with your gift of life. It’s the place where your choices ripple farther than a pebble tossed into a quiet pond. And it’s the one part of your story you get to choose to shape with purpose, courage, and a whole lot o’ grace. How are you doing with your dash?
With joy,
Gwen
