Written April 21st, 2010: Thank God we change, that we do not become who we want to be.
That we do not pick our destiny at a young age and barrel ahead with a single agenda and no chance to alter our course.
Motivation moves us forward.
Free will is the mother of our failure.
Love redeems us.
One day, surrender will perfect us.
Sometimes I try and retrace my steps. How did I get here... to this moment? What brought me this far, in this direction, through those trials... ultimately to end up here.
How did I become... me?
Many people in my life today don't know who I used to be.
The little girl who was terrified of new places and of strangers,
Who never held a baby, for fear of breaking them,
Who would rather lay on the bed and read a book than spend any time outside,
Who wanted to grow up and open a coffee shop and write books about people who took grand adventures...
-
I walked into their front yard last night without a second thought. The porch light was on and light glinted against the windchimes hanging from their roof. I could hear them yelling inside. The sound of feet pounding on the floor in the hallway... then the storm door being thrown open... then hollow footsteps on the porch.
He threw himself into my arms.
His eyes were wide and bright. He told me his name, then spelled his name, and announced he was seventy-two years old. He played with my hair as he talked to me, sometimes reaching up and touching my face.
Really... he was six. Too big to be held in my arms the way I was. But it didn't matter.
They led me inside and handed me the baby. One month old, he was still sleeping. I pulled him close and they handed me a bottle and walked away. Suddenly... I was by myself. Standing in the hallway of a strange house, with pitbulls scratching at the bedroom door, and an army of people unloading a truck outside.
-
So many moments add up to make our lives.
Moments take us by surprise and transform us.
When we least expect it, we are stretched. We turn in a new direction. Scales fall from our eyes.
We discover potential we never knew we had.
We learn how to love.
That babies don't break easily.
We learn how to pray.
And what it feels like to have dirty feet.
-
I did not grow up to be who I wanted to be.
And I will not end up who I am right now.
But there is a whisper I can hear... that suggests I was made for this life.
For adventures and babies and dirty feet.
I retrace my steps... realizing that every one was taken to lead me here.
And every one I take from here on out will be taken to get me there.
Toward becoming who I was created to be.
No time wasted.
It's been almost a year.That we do not pick our destiny at a young age and barrel ahead with a single agenda and no chance to alter our course.
Motivation moves us forward.
Free will is the mother of our failure.
Love redeems us.
One day, surrender will perfect us.
Sometimes I try and retrace my steps. How did I get here... to this moment? What brought me this far, in this direction, through those trials... ultimately to end up here.
How did I become... me?
Many people in my life today don't know who I used to be.
The little girl who was terrified of new places and of strangers,
Who never held a baby, for fear of breaking them,
Who would rather lay on the bed and read a book than spend any time outside,
Who wanted to grow up and open a coffee shop and write books about people who took grand adventures...
-
I walked into their front yard last night without a second thought. The porch light was on and light glinted against the windchimes hanging from their roof. I could hear them yelling inside. The sound of feet pounding on the floor in the hallway... then the storm door being thrown open... then hollow footsteps on the porch.
He threw himself into my arms.
His eyes were wide and bright. He told me his name, then spelled his name, and announced he was seventy-two years old. He played with my hair as he talked to me, sometimes reaching up and touching my face.
Really... he was six. Too big to be held in my arms the way I was. But it didn't matter.
They led me inside and handed me the baby. One month old, he was still sleeping. I pulled him close and they handed me a bottle and walked away. Suddenly... I was by myself. Standing in the hallway of a strange house, with pitbulls scratching at the bedroom door, and an army of people unloading a truck outside.
-
So many moments add up to make our lives.
Moments take us by surprise and transform us.
When we least expect it, we are stretched. We turn in a new direction. Scales fall from our eyes.
We discover potential we never knew we had.
We learn how to love.
That babies don't break easily.
We learn how to pray.
And what it feels like to have dirty feet.
-
I did not grow up to be who I wanted to be.
And I will not end up who I am right now.
But there is a whisper I can hear... that suggests I was made for this life.
For adventures and babies and dirty feet.
I retrace my steps... realizing that every one was taken to lead me here.
And every one I take from here on out will be taken to get me there.
Toward becoming who I was created to be.
No time wasted.
Since I picked up a bucket and carried it into a house in the inner city.
About 321 days since everything changed.
Again.
March 16th, 2010 I wrote: "I forget, sometimes, that God builds us up like building blocks. That every season of brokenness does not tear us all the way down to the ground. And so I expected, after Africa, for my calling here in the States to change. I assumed that what God had been leading me towards before was not interconnected with what He's leading me towards now. Except that, in reality, He's been preparing me for this all along. He knew my path curved this way a long time ago. Which is why He created me the way He did. Why He jumps for joy when I learn not to be anxious, but to pray about everything."
I'm sitting here, almost in tears.
I am thinking about Kingdom Dreams. And about my kids.
I want you to go and check out how God's been blessing me and stretching me over the past year. Know that one of my Kingdom Dreams is to see revival and restoration in the ghettos. Urban, inner city children are the beat of my heart.
To know me, you must catch a glimpse of my heart.
Serve the City East End.
Bless it... my heart is so tired tonight.
No comments:
Post a Comment