A year ago, I opened my first studio space.
I’d been in business for about two years, and had been working only on location. There was a building in our historic distric that I had been stalking–I loved the balcony, the proximity to a thousand fabulous locations for outdoor portraits, and the location, location, location.
I still love my studio, but now I have my mind set on something bigger, something that will allow me to expand what I can offer.
I have two choices when it comes to seeking out a space: I can be the orphan fending for herself, or I can be the beloved daughter waiting expectantly for the best option to be revealed. I can worry over seeking out the next space, or I can look at the various spaces in a spirit of waiting, resting in my Father’s perfect provision.
I read the next passage in Mark this morning, and found this encouragement:
And on the first day of Unleavened Bread, when they sacrificed the Passover lamb, his disciples said to him, “Where will you have us go and prepare for you to eat the Passover?” And he sent two of his disciples and said to them, “Go into the city, and a man carrying a jar of water will meet you. Follow him, and wherever he enters, say to the master of the house, ‘The Teacher says, Where is my guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?’ And he will show you a large upper room furnished and ready; there prepare for us.” And the disciples set out and went to the city and found it just as he had told them, and they prepared the Passover.
There are so many details in this little passage that are relevant to my search for a space, and whether I will do so with an orphan heart or a daughter heart. Let’s look at three.
First, the timing. Jesus gives this command to his disciples “on the first day of Unleavened Bread.” A better translation would be “before the first day of Unleavened bread”–the disciples are making preparations for Passover on Thursday, because this is work you wouldn’t do on the Holy Day of Passover. So, this is the last moment that someone could get a room for an event like this. Jerusalem would be completely packed with people. If there were ever a time for there to be “no room at the inn,” it would be this time. But Jesus simply has his disciples go out and secure the room prepared ahead of time for them.
Second, we see that Jesus has no concern about securing a room. He tells the disciples: “…say to the master of the house, ‘The Teacher says, Where is my guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?’” The room belongs to Jesus. All the rooms belong to Jesus. All of the studio spaces–the “cattle on a thousand hills” if I lived in the time of the Psalms–already belong to my heavenly Father, and he will provide what is needed at the right moment.
Finally, the space is perfect. Jesus tells his disciples what they will find: “…he will show you a large upper room furnished and ready…” Furnished. Ready.Exactly what he needs for this season, this final holy moment of celebrating the Passover with his disciples.
Every time I go into my little studio space downtown, I feel like I have entered a haven. I am productive there. I create there. It is part of my Father’s provision for me.
So when it comes time to get my next space, it doesn’t matter if it is seemingly at the worst time–the Lord will show me where to go. Every place in my city already belongs to him, and I can trust him to provide what is needed. And indeed, I can trust him to provide exactly what I need, even if I don’t see all of the details. Whether it’s a “large, furnished room” or a great empty space with high ceilings and some great natural light (anyone else with me on this?)–it will be just what my Father has saved for me.
As we go about the big decisions and the little ones, let’s turn to our heavenly Father with trust and rest. Let’s spend as much time praying as planning. Let’s refocus on Jesus, who will gladly give us good things.