I pack my bags in a house all alone. The kids are tucked safely in at Grandma's and the Farmer is busy plowing tall corn stalks right down to the ground, stripping them bare of that golden kernel.
I am not exactly sure why I am going – or why I feel Him leading me this way. A rural farm girl flying alone to Pennsylvania. I wonder tonight if this is more about the journey than the destination.
I was more brave when I wrote in obscurity. When I struck out words on screen so that I could understand, breathe right in the truth God was laying on me. But this traveling to join a group of Christian women who write – this…..this is more than I had thought He was calling me to.
I told a friend about the conference – about how so may great bloggers I read will be there. She offered, "women bloggers are a dime a dozen anymore." I think she was trying to comfort me – to make sure I wasn't feeling the pressure of measuring up. But she was wrong. The thing is, I don't write to make it on any list, or to see how many people I can convince to subscribe to the blog. I don't care if there is a big audience, or a tiny one that only involves my sister and a few close friends. He doesn't call me to count the fish, He just calls me to follow Him. But I hope – oh do I truly hope – that there is ONE. One mama out there who needed these words as much as I did. Who doesn't see me, but sees the one I point to – Him. That there may be one other broken soul who is desperately hanging onto His truth when this ragged body screams selfishly and He asks me to lay. myself. down. once. again.
I haven't always been this bold.
I am a slow learner – Him asking me to let go of the rope of control and to began the freefall trusting that He would indeed catch me. Isn't that the true test of what you believe? Are you willing to place full trust in it?
I think it was Beth Moore who wrote about how we can believe in God, and yet believe Him very little. I shudder to know – I have done this. I have believed that God is there, that He died for me, that salvation is in Him, and yet struggle to believe that He is willing and able to love, comfort, give freedom to me! If we can trust Him with our salvation and yet not trust Him for much else, what does that say about what we truly believe?
Trust has to be at the core of belief – and you can't prove trust until you take that first step. Like Indiana Jones stepping out onto the invisible walkway (totally showing my age here) – really, until you commit your trust – really step out with full weight leaning on that promise, can you say you really believe?
My steps were small at first. Then perhaps a little bolder. This too is a step, and He has proven to be faithful, to be trustworthy of my total committment, my full weight bearing on this step into what He has planned.
And so tomorrow morning, I let go of insecurity and fear and I pack my favorite boots and a notebook to record the moments. Every. moment. with. Him. I can't wait. I see His light, beckoning me on. I am ready for the journey.