As I sit here praying and hoping for the best for the sick parents of two friends, I think about what an honor it is to be gifted with life. Out of millions of people and an infinite number of DNA combinations that could have been pieced together, each of us was perfectly, lovingly and wonderfully designed by the masterful hands of a great Creator God. Where we are, who we are, when we are, are all His doing.
There is a call, I think, to strive to be more than we are comfortable with being. Our lives are so short here – a mere breath in the scope of time. Deep down we all know this to be true. I think it’s the reason why we all have this innate desire to want to “make a name” for ourselves. We will toil and work endlessly, sacrifice relationships and rest, and all for what? So we can show how much we’re worth? The car you drive, the clothes you wear, the achievements and accolade, it’s all bunk. When we are gone, no one will remember you as the cool guy with the awesome sports car, or that girl with the perfect skin whom all the boys fell head over feet for. In the end, all that will remain of us is our character and how well we lived.
When I am long gone, I don’t want it said of me that I had pretty hair or that I dressed/sang/wrote/cooked well. I hope that people will remember my actions, the way I loved, the way I served.
God has placed us here, each of us, to be His hands and feet -- His heart pouring out for a broken, suffering world. It’s a high calling, and we will fail (alone), that is a given.
It isn’t easy at all to be this… even for people like me. People gifted (or cursed) with “bleeding hearts” as AllieDearest would like to say. There are days I’d rather do what I want without regard for those around me, days I’d rather treat myself well than sacrifice for another, days I’d rather be cold and selfish especially when people hurt me, days when my sinful heart gets the best of me and shows an ugliness that I cannot bear or control. But, I am learning that in being obedient, in doing as He desires, in (trying to) love as He does, in practicing forgiveness (even when it hurts to), my heart changes… hopefully. In time it warms, becomes more malleable and eventually fits a little more snuggly into the mold He originally designed for me. The one I was always intended to fit, but was too cold, too stubborn and unyielding to want to be squeezed into.
I was (am) a square peg when I was intended to be a round one.
We all are.
