It is a dangerous thing for my head and for my heart. More dangerous though, for what is to come from those thoughts, ideas, and determined dreams turned to attainable goals. So it's not bad that I allow myself time away. To process. To refuel and comprehend the conversations had. To reflect on what could have been done better and what worked pretty dang well. To give the leaky faucet time to work again, and for my cup to know no movement. Just because someone is loud from the moment they wake up to the moment they lay their head on the pillow doesn't mean they don't have the right to take a step back and just observe. I think we could all benefit from taking a seat and just letting life happen around us. I know I have learned more from taking a step back then finding myself in the center. That being said. A quiet voice doesn't automatically mean a quiet heart or mind. It also doesn't mean you should assume there is a problem. My need to recoil is for no other reason than I just need to collect the greatness and sweet life moments I have had and organize them just so I know how to thank Him the right way. And to really simmer on lessons I should have learned and honestly, just take a break from being loud. It is a full time job I swear. (Yeah you can laugh at that... I know it's ridiculous!)
From a basketball court with more cracks in it than an elephants tough skin, to houses that look more like mansions. I was on opposite ends of this city this past week. And I saw it's good, bad, and ugly. Ironic enough, the places others would consider 'good' or 'bad' probably don't match my definition of 'good' or 'bad'.
Cute little coffee shops run by the most legit of hipsters, and corner stores that haven't changed in years. Churches on every street and the number or people on the steps outweigh the number in the pews.
Gated communities with views of the mountains that could take your breath away just 15 minutes down the road from shotgun homes littered with bikes, balls, and a couple shoes in the front yard.
A repurposed funeral home for the body of Christ to meet. Where food is laid out on the table, coffee mugs are distributed to all those who need help waking up, and if you get there early enough those who lead worship like to jam out - all in the name of Jesus of course! What I like most is that this building can't hold all the gifts, passions, and Jesus filled hearts that come on Sundays and they have to go out into the community to put themselves to further use. Where the people that live there don't look like us. My favorite. Here is where communion is done differently. Here is where I see my brothers and sisters in Christ become venerable and ask for prayer even when I know they got to bible school, or they themselves are a huge part of the church. Playing with the little ones that have gone through more life and more homes than I ever will. Taking part in ordained conversation that calls me out and tells me I will learn from it. Deep breath. How could this place mean this much to me already?
Saturday I got a phone call that would change it all up. Flip things on their side and be left there unattended unless I found some courage to flip them back over but see how placing it back would impact me. Toes stepped on. Names called. And bonds would be put to risk. Worth it? I would say yes. Because this has been six years in the making. I have to grow up some day right? Why wait three more years when He has called me to the broken now? Experience is greater than example that came through the grape vine. I heard stories of Bolivia that touched me. Then I went.
I prayed the other day. Not for myself. For a friend. And then I prayed again for some girls in my class. And you know what? I just realized I forgot to pray before my lunch... It's a snowball. I wish so badly to be the one who is seen as a prayer warrior. Until that day comes, I just stick to my quiet whispers. I know he hears them too... but the longing will only last so long for the day I say it with my chest again.
Some days I wish people would stop asking so many questions.
Cause quite frankly you would look at me funny if I told you the answer to your petty questions and wonder why I had an attitude. I have an 'attitude' cause I just wasted breath on a petty question you didn't even want to ask, but got to cross it off your list of people you engaged with, or someone you helped. Next person to make me part of their Christian checklist...
Simple things add up.
Like the sun setting over a ghetto and how different it feels than the sun setting in the suburbs and mountains.
- running around in the sun with kids without any care in the world.
- a borrowed phone charger when yours is ratchet.
- sitting somewhere different for chapel.
- walking around a track with friends just being honest with themselves.
- a group of middle school students searching for their identity and putting it in Christ.
- having an unexpected conversation that made you question why you were even having a bad day to begin with because it was just THAT good.
- cookies
- running an extra mile (because of those cookies!)
- Making tacos in a house I always dreamed would be where I raised a football team and starting five. No one matching, all different ages, just one big house full of joy.
- random dance breaks with your roommate because you need to be a kid for 10 minutes.
- New tank tops made with love.
