Well, here I am again, Lord. For years you have given me a dream to write a book. I have started half a million books, yet always somehow find a way to talk myself out of my disgraceful writing. I guess you could say that this looks like obedience. If left up to my own decision, I would have given this writing session a second guess and talked myself out of it simply because of the enemy of comparison. I'm pretty sure that the Bible gives us a glimpse into the dangers of that very thing, or else there might not be a commandment somewhere that mentions the big-C word (covet) but here I am, thinking of all of the amazing writers I know and trying not to talk myself out of closing this laptop. Yet, obedience moves my fingers.
Truth be told, I know that you have given me a spiritual gift and while it may not be as good as others I know, it's mine. You are a good giver of gifts and I would never want to neglect the things that you have given me. So I humbly press on and rest in the fact that this is obedience, whether my brain is convinced of this gift or not.
Thirty days.
Six years ago, you stirred something in my heart and it changed the trajectory of my life. I was on summer break from the classroom and you challenged me. I wanted to serve my community. I didn't want to waste away my summer break. I felt a nudge to sacrifice my time off and go where you sent me. Community pantries, clothing closets, church... I just knew that I wanted my time off to count for something. I had no idea what you were up to, but you have never proven to not be faithful. After all, you are a Good Father. You led me to places where my perspective changed on so many levels. You put me in front of people from all walks of life, and you gave me so much fulfillment to walk alongside them. To offer prayers and encouragement when you prompted me to, to love as you would.
That summer, my life changed. You reminded me of the calling that you had put in my life as a young child and my heart was so full to be able to serve people once again. I believe a revival was stirred in my heart that year, and I am so thankful for that. Six years later, I am still thankful for the calling that you have put on my life and for the people I serve. Whether they are sheltered or homeless, addicts or preachers, sinners or saints, lost or found, loved or forgotten, we all have something in common: we need you.
As I approached the new year, I pondered the state of my heart. I have to admit, 2022 had a lot of highs and lows. Our family has become closer and I am thankful to you for that. I see you working! Yet, my heart still aches for the loss of mom, an unexpected event that still takes my breath away when I stare too long at her picture or watch a video of her laughter. Still, I press on to the things that you have for me to do. For the next thirty days as I pray and fast, I commit myself to new revelations that you have for me. Each day, I will obey my calling to write out the ways you spoke to me that day and ask that you speak loud, for your servant is listening.
Day 1
Before the work day had even begun, I received a text from a coworker who had discovered a woman sleeping behind the building. The temperature was barely 32 degrees and it was a miracle she had slept outdoors in it and was able to tell about it. Wrapped barely in a blanket that would cover her body stretched out, she was happy to talk to the staff as we tried to help her on this frigid morning.
As I thought about what it must've been like for her to find our building in the middle of the night and sleep outside in the dark, I cringed at the thought. The bravery she must've had, and the determination she showed by making it to us to wait until the morning to be discovered, I was humbled. She had made it to us and survived. I remembered times in my own life when I had nothing. No hope, no direction, no understanding of how to be ok. Just as this woman walked to the hope she had heard about from others who told her about the "center that helps homeless people," I thought about my own life and how there had been moments in my own life where Jesus met me when I had no hope. How thankful I was to have made it to Him, and what it meant to have a firm foundation again. When we talk about our unsheltered neighbors and how hard it is for them to go without running water, heat, and walls when there is snow on the ground, the foundation is missing. Today perhaps, I realized that we can still have a roof over our heads and be missing a foundation, and he is more firm than any walls could be.
Today, I am thankful for the true foundation I have in you, Jesus.
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