I've been dropping things lately, like sand falling through my fingers. I have peace about each decision, but all of a sudden I realise there is nothing left in my hands.
I have stopped working with Teen Challenge, though have not quit on this ministry to which the Lord has called me.
I have left the Church I was at, though look for a new body to challenge and enthuse me
I have no savings, yet a job application form sits in my recycling bin.
In fact, apart from my studies I am holding on to very little right now. And from the outside I'm sure it looks rather unrighteous and illogical. Its certainly unsettling.
So with nothing to bring to the table, I ask the Lord to fill my hands once more. And meanwhile I must be content to trust in the mystery of his ways.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Friday, February 8, 2013
"Would you like an Earl Grey or are you more of a Coke person?"
There are several girls I hold in my heart as sisters. These are the women whose weddings I will sob at, children I will devote myself to and achievements I will wholeheartedly celebrate.
Recently I made room in my heart for another. She is Northern Irish. She has to have cereal before she goes to bed, she never says no to a cup of tea, she can't tell a story sitting down and she captivates rooms full of people. Without fail she captivates rooms. We bicker like an old married couple, we nap together, we can have conversations by looking at each other. She's the one who talks me through my (frequent) tears.
And I want to share this evening as a snapshot of how she revives my spirit. She came into my room (she doesn't bother knocking anymore) and sat on my bed with her guitar. She played some worship but didn't sing. Now I've sat by her in chapel before so I know she can sing and asked her to do so now. But she refuses, she says she can't sing. Eventually I persuade her to and she plays me a worship song she has written, with the beautiful voice of one who recognizes her source of grace. She does not see the weight of who she is, through no fault of her own.
She then made up a song about me and the fact she had caught me wearing a facing mask, my big feet... cute stuff like that.
Then we worshiped.
And she is beautiful and talented and sweet and humble and strong.
And she is my reminder that it's okay that I don't have a valentine this year. And she is my reminder that i'm far from being alone.
Recently I made room in my heart for another. She is Northern Irish. She has to have cereal before she goes to bed, she never says no to a cup of tea, she can't tell a story sitting down and she captivates rooms full of people. Without fail she captivates rooms. We bicker like an old married couple, we nap together, we can have conversations by looking at each other. She's the one who talks me through my (frequent) tears.
And I want to share this evening as a snapshot of how she revives my spirit. She came into my room (she doesn't bother knocking anymore) and sat on my bed with her guitar. She played some worship but didn't sing. Now I've sat by her in chapel before so I know she can sing and asked her to do so now. But she refuses, she says she can't sing. Eventually I persuade her to and she plays me a worship song she has written, with the beautiful voice of one who recognizes her source of grace. She does not see the weight of who she is, through no fault of her own.
She then made up a song about me and the fact she had caught me wearing a facing mask, my big feet... cute stuff like that.
Then we worshiped.
And she is beautiful and talented and sweet and humble and strong.
And she is my reminder that it's okay that I don't have a valentine this year. And she is my reminder that i'm far from being alone.
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