Chasing Broken

"My brothers, as believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ, don’t show favoritism. Suppose a man comes into your meeting wearing a gold ring and fine clothes, and a poor man in shabby clothes also comes in. If you show special attention to the man wearing fine clothes and say, 'Here's a good seat for you,' but say to the poor man, 'You stand there' or 'Sit on the floor by my feet,' have you not discriminated among yourselves and becomes judges with evil thoughts? Listen, my dear brothers: Has not God chosen those who are poor in the eyes of the world to be rich in faith and to inherit the kingdom He promised those who love Him?" James 2:1-4

 One day a few weeks ago I felt an overwhelming pull on my heart’s strings to seek out the homeless.  It was an ordinary day that began with my usual routine – quiet time with the Lord, coffee, breakfast, and dropping my son off at school.  As I was leaving the drop off zone at his elementary I suddenly pictured in my mind a homeless man that I’ve seen before at Target. Following this mental picture was an unexpected flood of emotion and desire to seek out as many broken and hurting people as possible.  I literally just felt an inexplicable inclination to start driving and look for them anywhere I could, and somehow I just knew God would lead the way.  As strong of a pull as this was, one would think that I immediately dropped everything else on my schedule and headed out in search of the homeless.  I tell you now that I didn’t.  Instead, I smiled at what a nice thought I was having and then turned the car towards home.  “I have too much to get done this morning,” I rationalized.  I wonder how many people I could have blessed that day had I driven the opposite direction and chased after the broken? 

One Breath

I started this entry weeks ago, but couldn't find the words until now.  I knew what I wanted to say but was too overcome with emotion to coherently write it. I sat in front of the computer with hands on the keyboard and tears so full in my eyes that the screen became a blur. My mind raced with how to say what I wanted to say, yet my page remained an antagonistic white glare. I've learned that it's often best to hold my tongue in conflicts or arguments until emotions have passed, and the same seems to ring true for messages delivered with the intent of inspiration. It's not that today finds me without emotion, but it does find me with a deeper trust in God's goodness and sovereignty as He refuses to answer my prayers in the way I would like. The emotions over what I'm about to share still run very deep, yet I somehow seem to have moved further away from the frequently catastrophic effects of them and closer into the arms of a comforting God and Father. The following is how God turned my grief into joy with just one breath.

Tuned In

Two weeks ago today, I was having an overly emotional day and I didn't feel like being around anyone, not even my own family.  I didn't want to talk on the phone, didn't want to have interaction with others, and surprisingly didn't want to go to my women's Bible Study.  Ordinarily, this event is one of the highlights of my week, the mid-week spiritual boost that I eagerly anticipate every Wednesday morning.  However, two Wednesday's ago, because of my fragile emotional state, I was leaning towards staying home.  My son, on the other hand, wanted to go and wouldn't take no for an answer.  "Please, mommy, can we go?" he asked with the most adorable brown eyes and pouty, lip-protruding frown. "Okay, we'll go" I reluctantly gave in.  Well, I usually drive the exact same way to our church, but earlier in the day before I contemplated not going, I had decided that if I went I would take a new route after stopping at the grocery store for snacks.  It would be quicker, so when Ashton convinced me to go, I opted for sticking to that plan and we headed out.  At Albertsons we got the snacks we needed and were headed to the check out when I remembered that I was almost out of cat litter.  As much as I didn't really need it yet, I opted to grab it while I was already there.  "Let's hurry, Ashton, so we're not late," I rushed.  We were on the opposite end of the store, so it would add just a few more minutes onto our already pressed drive time to church.  "I just need to get the cat litter" I reasoned, though at the time I wasn't sure why I didn't just get it later. When I'm running late, it's very uncharacteristic of me to take time for something that isn't absolutely necessary at the time, but that night I did.  So I walked to get it, and in the mere two minutes it took me to walk across the store and grab it, I was spared what looked to be a fatal wreck that occurred on the new church route I was about to take.

Pick Me, Pick Me!

When I first started this blog back in January of this year, I didn't really know the direction it would take.  In fact, it took me a minute of reflection to even recall what prompted its commencement.  I remember now though.  It was a note I posted on my Facebook wall, though the content of said note I don't entirely recall.  From that note and an inner nudging from God, however, a blog site was born.  More than anything I believe I just wanted the opportunity to talk. I knew I had a lot to say and that God wanted me to write, so I figured I would leave the subject details and formatting up to Him.  I've looked through some of my earlier posts and I'm amazed by how much the entries have changed.  I began writing with a cautionary memo to readers -"Beware, God will likely be at the heart of most, if not all, posts written," and I think in that warning I was trying to ease those who know me into an awareness of my growing love for God.  Have you seen how people react when you open your heart to God? See paragraph four for some of the reactions I got.  Now, on the other hand, the posts are clearly written in, for, and about Him. The cautionary memo seems to have faded away. So why the initial warning?  It's not that I've been a closet Christian, but in many ways, recent years have found me restrained and reserved around those who have known me for a long time, and truthfully, around absolutely everyone whether they've known me or not.  I think the formation of this blog was God's way of helping not only those who may happen to read it, but also me as I write in it.  What I've since found is that instead of saying "Aww, God, don't make me say it," I'm now eagerly thrusting my hand in the air and yelling "Pick me, pick me!"