I feel that tug on my soul reminding me I am human. The get away- get out. The fight or flight has kicked in and I know I cannot do this on my own, so I want to run. Far and fast. My heart races to the beat of the melody in my head. “I don’t wanna live like I don’t care, I don’t wanna say another empty prayer. Lord, I could choose not to move- but I refuse!
Talking about it, reading about it, thinking about it has dislodged this longing inside of me. So I think about it more. I seek out stories to read and people who have been there to talk about it with, which only seems to make me more thirsty. I am drinking the salt water while stranded at sea. It will be my demise. Though it tastes good, in my delirious mind, I can hear myself screaming warning of caution ‘this will change everything.’
How could it affect me so significantly? How could dirty faces and sticky hands capture my heart so completely? I feel ridiculous pinning like this. Like a high schooler in love. You remember that feeling? How your world changes so completely. I do not want to be there to help them. No, rather, my heart is there- I love them so I want to be close to them. Is it possible that this feeling is the mimicking of the relationship God had with us? Didn’t God love us so completely that he wanted to just be close to us? Long just to be near us? Even for a brief stay. So Jesus came down. Yes, to save, but God could have choose a thousand ways to save humanity I bet. God came down as a human; as one of us. And he loved on us. He walked, rode, galloped and skipped several thousands of miles to visit us in many countries. To be a part of us for a while. Can you imagine Jesus with butterflies in his stomach waiting to meet us? Or us meet him? Of us seeing him for him? Giddily performing miracles, eagerly skipping meals to talk, traveling by foot when he couldn’t catch a ride- sounds like love right? He stayed in our house, took us on picnics on hilltops, spoke to us for hours upon hours. And when he finally had to go home, he left part of himself behind in those of us who dared to fall in love with him.
Sounds like a love story to me. I recently realized though, yes, I am in love with Jubilee it is not necessarily them. My love is for being wrecked. Wrecked for life as I had imagined it. I always wanted the white picket fence, the kids running around in the grass, a big dog to play fetch with, walking around in a suit with a badge and a gun. But now the sweetest dream I have for my life, the one I have told no one up until this point is this: A cement house with cold showers whose roof catches the night breeze. Flip flops and skirts. A husband and a few adopted children. Where the goal of the day is not to make it through another 8 hours of work but rather to build relationships, play with children, learn from those around me, be a part of a true community.
Saul became blind to this world so he could finally see God. Did God do the same with me, blinding me from the world so I might truly see him? God changed Saul’s life with 3 days of blindness, is it possible God changed my whole life in 10 days of true sight?