Joshua

What in the world.

In the matter of six weeks my life has completely changed.

 It's all I can do to process it tonight.

I am sticky from making frozen yogurt and cutting kiwi, and I am just trying to wind down as I prepare for one of three days left at the office tomorrow.

Three more work days and my job of six years will be over.

I am sitting in a new house.  In a new room.  On a new bed.

And those plans I had made for August are no more.

I feel kind of like I've been holding my breath.  Like I had become some consumed with plans and arrangements and preparations that I didn't feel anything anymore.

I believe in the mission and ministry behind the World Race.

But if you know anything about my life, it's that my story has been full of leaving.  I haven't had to leave countries, states, or cities by many means.  But I've left homes.  And I've left communities.  And I've had to leave churches.  And I've had to leave relationships.  And I've had to leave ministries.

I am tired of leaving.

The nature of work in the inner city is inconsistent and unpredictable.  I have grown very accustomed to having a child in a home one day, and returning the next only to find him gone.  Usually for good.

But I have a few.  One just turned 17.  He's as big as a house, with dark skin and a great smile.  He spends his Friday nights with us, which just blows my mind.  And with the help of a dear friend, just brought all his failing grades up to passing.

The other is stoic.  He locks his jaw and stares straight ahead.  His words are few.  But every once in a while he will break out in a smile.  The smile doesn't always make it all the way up to his eyes, and I worry about him sometimes.  But on Tuesday night we were walking home and one of the girls squealed a little too loud.  And here he comes, my little man with a red afro, just to check and make sure we were ok.  He had heard us scream.

There is the pair of brothers.  One who is young and handsome and serious and way too big for his britches.  And the other who is physically too big for his britches and has a huge gap in his teeth.  They tag along with us and fight each other and one wears his hoodie too small and the other loves wrestling.  They are my constants.

Or the sweet little girls who just want to be held.  Who scream our names "Miss Anna, Miss Anna!" and come running and inevitably throw themselves in our arms.  With beads in their hair and shrill giggles.

Or one of the littlest ones who is learning how to talk.  We watched him learn how to walk.  And he hates wearing clothes.  And loves to hide under the couch cushions.

Or the group of young teenage boys who show up on Friday nights, and wait on us hand and foot.  They serve food and take out trash and wipe down tables.  They act out Bible stories for skits.  They are part of a dream I had months and months ago.  A word from the Lord about His kingdom.

Tuesday night God sent me four more.  To fill the void in my heart that four others had left a few months ago.

Three had the names of the prophets.  With light in their eyes and toothless smiles on the faces.  The little girl had a name which means "olive branch".  Perfectly matched up with the dove God had painted on the church's walls that afternoon.  To affirm an answer my heart already knew.

And I'm here to tell you.  My heart is consumed.  I have fallen in love all over again.  All I want... all my heart wants... is to pour out here.  To drop anchor.  To build a foundation.  To be here to see it all bear fruit.  I want my story to have a new word.

Invest.

That's my word.

Right here.  In my backyard.  Where there are gangs and prostitutes and dealers and murderers and thieves.

Jesus would have a blast.  Jesus is having a blast.

Especially on the nights when 50+ kids gather in a field and play kickball.  50+ kids who have grown up in the midst of all this.  Neglected and broken and callused by real life hitting too early.  Or the precious few who have beautiful parents and great loving households, but have been stricken with poverty and just can't get a break.

I will invest in them.

God's word for me over this whole journey, from beginning to end, was Joshua 1:9.

"Be strong and courageous.  Do not be terrified, do not be discouraged.  The Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."  He had given me permission to choose.  His shadow was cast wide.

So on Tuesday night when boy #3 came barreling down the staircase, with two missing front teeth and corn rows, and told me his name was Joshua...

My heart settled deep in my chest and a smile lit up my face.

Here.

It is through these streets I will run my race.