My mom was in a wreck last night coming home from Mimi and Aunt Judy’s house. She’s ok, but the car is a total loss. Her 2001 silver Solara has bit the dust. This is hard for my family as Dad is in dire need of a new truck. The reason we were all so happy that my car is in my name was so Dad could get something to replace the almost 14 year old truck he is driving. It looks like we are going to have to stretch finances a little bit the next few months. Hopefully the insurance will cover the bulk of a new car for Mom so that this is not too much of a financial burden.
A moment of silence please for the car in which I got my driver’s license.
…
The Toyota place sure is going to love our family this year.
What was I created to be?
I guess I’ve been asking myself this for quite a while. I know I’ve been actively wrestling with what I am called to do for the last year. Maybe it has been longer than that, but I know the true season of tears and frustration over this issue has been occurring in the last 11 months (13 if you count when I was doing Fire in the Night.)
I know first and foremost I was created for worship. I was created for communion with the Most High. I am created to give all the I do as a sacrifice of praise.
In the words of a Jason Upton song, :”This is no sacrifice, its my life.”
I want to be part of the prayer movement - night and day prayer until the returning of the Lord. For awhile I was totally thinking that I wanted to be a part of the prayer movement in the context of being an intercessory missionary. I am beginning to realize that as I live my life here - away from any prayer room - that I am being part of that prayer movement. As I lift my heart to the Lord while at work, church, or home; as I read and study my Bible; as I try to live my life as a beacon of light in a darkened world - those times are just as important to the prayer movement as sitting in chairs in a prayer room and praying night and day. It is not what I do in where everyone can see it that is most important. It is how I posture my heart in the times of being alone with the Lord that define my spiritual walk.
I value time in the prayer room like no other time. I love being around people who also are passionately pursuing the Lord. I love being able to cry, dance, sing, sing in sign, etc. with other people who don’t look at me weird for doing so. I love the friendships that I have cultivated in the context of the prayer room. The time I get in the prayer room - or even listening to it on the web-cast - is precious to me as a treasure of silver or gold or even fine jewels.
But this past year I have realized that I miss being in the classroom. Truly my time I spend teaching is a time of worship for me. I feel in my element. It is a hard thing to do, but it is the most fulfilling thing in my life. It is also a weighty responsibility. It drives me to prayer and worship. It drives me to the realization that I am entirely dependant on the Lord to continue doing it. Teaching beats me down to the bare bones - in a good way. It reveals my depravity and my need for a savior. It reveals my hidden anger and my insecurities. It teaches to me to stand up for myself and to rejoice in others’ successes.
Teaching is a refiner’s fire to me. It slowly purifies me. Oh, it hurts in the process, but I am better for it.
It is time for me to get into the classroom. I was created to teach. It is the desire of my heart.
It is time… yes, it is time.
And I’m willing to follow where ever the Lord will have me to go.
Yes, this does mean that I will be back in Kansas City soon for interviews. This time it feels right. It is a hard decision to possibly uproot my life and move 620 miles from home. But I feel this is the Lord’s leading. Much more prayer will be put into this decision, but it feels like a solid and right choice on my part. I can teach anywhere, but my heart is leading me to be in a place that I can be a teacher and can have access to the prayer room.
