A Tale of 3 Cities, #3: The City Not Called Terminus

In 1836 the State of Georgia built a railroad from Savannah toward the Midwest. In the middle of the woods in northern Georgia, they decided to stop construction. And they unceremoniously called the spot “Terminus.” That was its name, Terminus, and its only distinction was being the end of the line, where they placed the “Zero Mile Post.” The chief engineer said the place was “a good location for one tavern, a blacksmith shop, a grocery store, and nothing else.” It was in the middle of nowhere.
 
Stay with me—and stay with Terminus.
 
Terminus outgrew the man’s prediction, and in 1843 Governor Wilson Lumpkin proclaimed, “The town shall be called ‘Marthasville’ in honor of my youngest daughter.” Marthasville? Hmmm. That may be a tolerable name for a small town, still in the woods, still in the middle of nowhere.
 
Then from 1845 to 1854, other expanding rail lines arrived from four—four!—different directions. This spot in the woods now got another new name: “Atlantica-Pacifica.” That was rather cumbersome and esoteric, so it was subsequently shortened to a name you might be familiar with: “Atlanta.” Yes indeed. This nowhere spot in the woods became the rail hub for the entire southern United States, and today it hosts the highest volume airport in the world.
 
Who would have thought?
 
How many times have you seen or heard of something or someone that at first appeared insignificant but in time grew into something or someone amazing?
 
Have you ever felt that your own life was stuck in the woods in the middle of nowhere?
It did not and never does have to stay there.
 
But going from Terminus to Marthasville to Atlantica-Pacifica to Atlanta never happens overnight. And it is never easy. But with time and diligence it does happen.
 
What if God has in mind for your “Terminus” to become a “Marthasville”?
And what if, in your own God-designed way, you were meant to become a kind of “Atlanta”?
 
I’m not advocating pie-in-the-sky fantasy. And I won’t lie by proclaiming you can be rich and famous, or that you should even want to be. But some of us too often live our lives like that spot in the middle of nowhere. And all the while God has something more for us—something not necessarily of this world, but of his intention and design for your place in his kingdom—as in “thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”
 
God spoke through the prophet Jeremiah to his people who were living in exile like that spot in the woods: “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart” (29:11–13). 
 
What design might God still intend for you?
 
What plans might God have for you to pursue?
 
May he bless your forward path.