Devotion 402 - crinkled

I sit down at my computer.  My weapon of choice.

I am ready to write.

Something someone said has reached down into me.  It has reached down so deep it hurts.

The person said something untrue.  Something that takes who I am and crinkles it into something I do not recognize.  I frantically try to pick it up, to lay it flat and to make sense out of it, but I cannot.

So I pick up my pen, or rather my keyboard and begin to write.  In a matter of thirteen minutes, I have started and almost finished twenty-two letters, but none of them seem right.

 

It is not the words or the tone or the text.  There is something keeping me from writing, perhaps keeping me from learning.  This feels painfully like something I am supposed to step back from and pray about, because some things in life have no easy answers and certainly no easy cures.

They confuse the mind and tax the soul.  There are things we step through and our souls sense the burning coals.  The scars form and they cause us to stand much closer to the One that understands scars.

I lay down my weapon.

I watch a video.  That is what the twenty first century person does to purge pain.  We stimulate our senses.

 

Sadly the video is far from entertainment.  I am both confused and alarmed about the idea of terrorism and refugees.  In my quest to understand I have found myself following the words of Mr. Rogers.  As a child, I lived for channel nine.  Mr. Rogers Neighborhood was a source of both comfort and extraordinary life lessons.  He told us as a child when he was frightened, his mother would say, “Look for the helpers.”

So I did. I was looking at helpers.  People helping refugees.  People fighting evil.  A woman sat and told her story.

She talked about her journey, her seven day journey from her home and the life she knew.  She had nothing, no food, and no water for seven entire days.  The story was riveting.

 She continued to speak in her native language.  I continued to read the translation at the bottom of the screen.  Then six words leapt off the screen and I had to pause to put them into some perspective.  She said,

“My young daughter starved to death.”

I cannot count the number of times I have complained about my ‘journey.’  I cannot begin to describe the insignificant things I have found unfair or unkind.

I would like to tell you in thinking about my journey I have kept the end in mind, knowing every minute of every hour will be worth it in glory.

I cannot.  I have naively and selfishly and stupidly complained. For the entire morning, I had secretly complained about my hurting heart and demanded justice for my soul.

Beloved, this life, and this journey between these two oceans is so unbelievably and undeniably blessed.

 

There has never been a day I have lived without water nor food.  I have never wondered about the safety of where I sleep.  I have never slept without a bed, a pillow and more than one blanket.

I cannot imagine the tragedy of seeing my child do without food or water or the tyranny of seeing her starve.

The Apostle Luke knew we would see these days.  He knew through the divine anointing of the Holy Spirit that many of us would have much, and he warned that much would be required.

What IS it that is REQUIRED?

It is living a life that is worthy of the call and the ownership placed on our souls.  It is speaking, doing, working and living as if it is your very last day to reflect Jesus.

It is not easy.

I forget and I would guess you do to.  But I can do better and perhaps, just perhaps that is our challenge.  Perhaps I need to look outside myself more often and remember daily that giving a small portion of what I have is better than giving nothing.  I don’t necessarily mean money.  I mean the hard stuff.  

What if we all offered a bit of time, a bit of love, a bit of our comfort and a word of encouragement?  What if we sacrificed our schedule for His?

What if when I am faced with a crinkled heart or hurt soul I grasp the blessings instead of nursing the bruises?

 

I want to be a helper while I walk this earth, not a holder or worse a hoarder.

Our looking within ourselves should not be for pain but for promise and hope and choosing to reflect His glory.

I am sure of this, that He who started a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.Philippians 1:6