I have so many stories to tell you. So many thoughts are pinned up inside me today, and it’s just not the right time to share them. Patience and blogging, they don’t mesh well. But I’ve finally come to that place where I can dial my best friend and not tell her that thing I’m dying to…the real reason I called. Timing, God is outside of it and even He, especially He, practices the importance of it.
I can tell you that I’m excited about this next move in my life. I’m excited about this beautiful, largely godless, poverty ridden state that I have the absolute pleasure of living in. I’m excited to get out in it and be a part of it. I’m grateful for the third trailer that I will have lived in in as many years. I’m grateful for humility, even when it comes through complete and utter humiliation. I’m grateful that I know God speaks, and I’m grateful for what He’s bent down and told me about this season. I’m grateful for my book, a book I absolutely believe He gave me. I’m grateful for my husband. He gave me a story he didn’t want to give me…and I didn’t want to receive it. But, God. But, God! I am so grateful for my family!
My life isn’t pretty. There is nothing about me that is worthy of envy. I am broken, poor, poured out. Maybe God is using me for the sole purpose of convincing you He can use you in spades. He’s certainly not using me because of anything good in me. But my hands are open, willing. On peaceful, still-water days, I can feel His hands…placing mine on my cross. And His voice whispers gently, as I’m quiet, while I’m broken, “It’s time to get up now. Follow me.”