It has finally happened. I am a Feral Christian. I found God as a little girl at 6 years old. I gave Him my heart completely and He took that 6 year old little girl seriously. That afternoon, I drove home in the back of a pick up truck singing crazy pentecostal songs with a 50-year-old man who found Jesus the same day. We sang at the top of our lungs and we sang the song over and over again. I was a crazy 6 year-old Christian who had no fear, no inhibitions, and no worries of what the world thought of me. As I grew, I was tamed by religion. I was bound by piety. I was crippled by my pride. At 30 I began to miss the crazy 6-year old. I've journeyed to get back in touch with her. Four years later, I'm reconnecting with the fearless, uninhibited, wild child I once was. I believe God is big. I believe He loves me. I believe He's got big plans for my little life.
That being said, I'm struck by a thought today while I'm reading my Bible. Our church is doing a series on Nehemiah and I am loving this story. A slave decides he wants to rebuild the walls of a city he is descended from but has never visited. I imagine him as a William Wallace, Maximus, or Leonidas type of guy. I imagine him riding around on his horse, reminding the people of the power of the God they serve. I imagine him carrying his trowel in one hand and his sword in the other. Did I say a trowel? Yeah, the guy is building a wall. As he is rebuilding the wall he's met with resistance, but is able to rally his countrymen to defend what is rightfully theirs. What a story!
So the thought I am struck with is this: I must be prepared to do the work of a woman who believes and serves a big God. I have children and it's a hard job. I thought it would let up a little once they got older, but it's getting harder. My days are no longer filled with changing diapers, breastfeeding, or holding little ones who need to be close. My days are now filled with prayer, observation, prayer, imparting knowledge and wisdom, and prayer. I have been moving forward in this season of my life with apprehension, insecurity, and downright fear. As I envision Nehemiah walking around the wall encouraging the people of God to continue building, I imagine myself there. My husband and I are God's tools and we are being used in the lives of Isaac and Elisa. I must have faith that God is able to use me to do what He has planned for me to do. Let's imagine I am the trowel and I spend my day as such...God, are You sure You want me? There are better trowels. There are fancier trowels. I am not the most expensive trowel. I've got a dent and if you look closely, there's a chip here. I know it says stainless steel, but maybe I'm really made out of plastic and am only covered with stainless steel paint... That wouldn't do. No. As I thought about this I had this image instead...God walks into the garden center at Target. He walks over to the trowels. He looks and looks for the perfect trowel for Isaac and Elisa's lives. He finds me. He says, "This trowel is perfect. It's just what I was looking for. This trowel, will be the trowel I need to build the lives of Isaac and Elisa." As I type this, tears fill my eyes. God chose me to be their mother. God chose me to be John's wife. God chose me to be the daughter and sister in my extended family. It wasn't an accident. God didn't make a mistake and I didn't slip by without Him noticing. He was deliberate. I will surrender to that Will and move forward with confidence and courage.
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