"Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them."
-John 7:38
After repeatedly bouncing back and forth between two extremes, hot or cold, I never enjoyed the freedom to fully experience "stability" firsthand. No wonder, I found myself as a lost "adult child." I sat faithfully at the bus stop, waiting but never clearly fulfilling my preordained destiny. I encountered many temporary prospects but nothing seemed too promising.
Passerbys examined my flaws with their imaginary microscopic lenses but failed to acknowledge any noticeable strengths. Guess they weren't detected with the naked eye or went unnoticed. Some starred at me with glaring discomfort. Their eyeballs inspected every inch of the unknown places I travelled. Their apprehension was obvious. They secretly wondered if I was homeless, but (I imagine) I appeared to clean. However, no one bothered to ask, because my answer may have provoked a slight inconvenience or disrupted their conscience. Funny that we live in a present day society, that assumes "homelessness" has a distinct look. If you're not camped out as a noticeable eyesore in rags at a an intersection, begging for change with a handwritten sign, we safely assume that you sleep peacefully at night in the comforts of your own home. We dare not ask because it places a heavy burden of guilt on us-as if someone's safety is not a critical concern.
Although I wasn't physical homeless, I was spiritually. I was a unwelcomed nomad that others were embarrassed to claim. Missionaries clutched their purses and hurried passed me, physically assuming there weren't any present lacks. Maybe because most times, there was a book nested in my hands. I guess we assume, the homeless aren't an educated population but we never bother to look into unfamiliar eyes to discern the "real needs." No one noticed my trembling hands or lack of speech. I guess, I wasn't worthy of conversation, not even a pleasant "Good Morning." They ignored my daily presence. They were unbothered by my awkwardness. After awhile, I assumed they viewed me as apart of the bench. I showed up despite rain, sleet, or snow, but no one thought it was strange and I wasn't about to call any unnecessary attention to myself.
I grew increasingly frustrated. I needed help but no one obliged, because I never asked. Isn't it strange that we appear to be faithful followers of Christ but lack the real discernment to minister to the mute and lame? Truthfully speaking, we are not mind readers, but how do you serve the population that can't speak? Do their needs go ignored due to language barriers?
I sat and sat in desperation. I needed "balance!" Either I wavered in faith with every passing storm or sat tirelessly, enduring desert temperature heat. My dry, cracked lips were a clear indication that I suffered from heat exhaustion, but no one offered a drink of water. I flip flopped between overbearing droughts or never ending storms because I couldn't muster up the strength to move. The "lacks" became monumental roadblocks that distorted my view. Even though, I waited, I never even caught a small glimpse of a nearby bus.
BUT GOD...He saw the real need and made the necessary provisions. He moved the bus stop across town. On this particular route, I encountered familiar smiles that welcomed me with open arms. They asked me to accompany them on their bus rides. They invited me to cups of coffee. They asked the "hard" questions that no one else bothered to ask. Even though I didn't look like the people in their neighborhoods, they welcomed me into their homes lovingly, without hesitation or fearful natures. They didn't care who saw them talking to me. Actually, they appeared to enjoy my presence as I did theirs. The loving reciprocity overtook my heart. It was an amicable exchange. There were no malicious hidden agendas. I overflowed with giddiness. My heart blushed. I held back the tears. My puffy, eyes provided proof that I had become a water barrel. I thank God for the overflow but I wasn't anticipating a flood.
Yesterday, I ventured inside the ark, safely tucked away from harm's way. I witnessed God turn ordinary acts of kindness into overwhelming miracles. I saw faces light up with newfound faith. I heard testimonies of triumph. I experienced favor in meal preparations that didn't exclude me. Favor showed up in small acts of kindness, tokens of appreciation and genuine heartfelt love. Favor invaded my isolated camp with overwhelming invitations. My opinions and input were welcomed. I almost forgot that I had anything meaningful to share. Eyes were glued to my heart as I shared in complete honesty, without the disappointed looks of judgment. Instead my words were greeted with understanding.
After awhile it was too much for my little tear ducts to contain, I was forced to sneak away to the bathroom and release the overflow. God didn't bless me with just one guardian angel, I inherited a flock of them. One in particular that I try to avoid, because her anointing overwhelmed my spirit. She had a special way of looking through me, as if she read the pages of my hear in silence. I loved it but I felt a little intimidated. Her presence demanded accountability. She poured unselfishly into many areas of surrounding lack. She didn't come to my rescue. She didn't come to hold my hand with every step, but she affirmed my rightful fit in the kingdom. There was room for me after all.
"then your barn will be filled to overflowing, and your vats will brim over with new wine."
-Proverbs 3:10
God reassured me that I would never be thirsty again; he is indeed the "living water."
-John 7:38
After repeatedly bouncing back and forth between two extremes, hot or cold, I never enjoyed the freedom to fully experience "stability" firsthand. No wonder, I found myself as a lost "adult child." I sat faithfully at the bus stop, waiting but never clearly fulfilling my preordained destiny. I encountered many temporary prospects but nothing seemed too promising.
Passerbys examined my flaws with their imaginary microscopic lenses but failed to acknowledge any noticeable strengths. Guess they weren't detected with the naked eye or went unnoticed. Some starred at me with glaring discomfort. Their eyeballs inspected every inch of the unknown places I travelled. Their apprehension was obvious. They secretly wondered if I was homeless, but (I imagine) I appeared to clean. However, no one bothered to ask, because my answer may have provoked a slight inconvenience or disrupted their conscience. Funny that we live in a present day society, that assumes "homelessness" has a distinct look. If you're not camped out as a noticeable eyesore in rags at a an intersection, begging for change with a handwritten sign, we safely assume that you sleep peacefully at night in the comforts of your own home. We dare not ask because it places a heavy burden of guilt on us-as if someone's safety is not a critical concern.
Although I wasn't physical homeless, I was spiritually. I was a unwelcomed nomad that others were embarrassed to claim. Missionaries clutched their purses and hurried passed me, physically assuming there weren't any present lacks. Maybe because most times, there was a book nested in my hands. I guess we assume, the homeless aren't an educated population but we never bother to look into unfamiliar eyes to discern the "real needs." No one noticed my trembling hands or lack of speech. I guess, I wasn't worthy of conversation, not even a pleasant "Good Morning." They ignored my daily presence. They were unbothered by my awkwardness. After awhile, I assumed they viewed me as apart of the bench. I showed up despite rain, sleet, or snow, but no one thought it was strange and I wasn't about to call any unnecessary attention to myself.
I grew increasingly frustrated. I needed help but no one obliged, because I never asked. Isn't it strange that we appear to be faithful followers of Christ but lack the real discernment to minister to the mute and lame? Truthfully speaking, we are not mind readers, but how do you serve the population that can't speak? Do their needs go ignored due to language barriers?
I sat and sat in desperation. I needed "balance!" Either I wavered in faith with every passing storm or sat tirelessly, enduring desert temperature heat. My dry, cracked lips were a clear indication that I suffered from heat exhaustion, but no one offered a drink of water. I flip flopped between overbearing droughts or never ending storms because I couldn't muster up the strength to move. The "lacks" became monumental roadblocks that distorted my view. Even though, I waited, I never even caught a small glimpse of a nearby bus.
BUT GOD...He saw the real need and made the necessary provisions. He moved the bus stop across town. On this particular route, I encountered familiar smiles that welcomed me with open arms. They asked me to accompany them on their bus rides. They invited me to cups of coffee. They asked the "hard" questions that no one else bothered to ask. Even though I didn't look like the people in their neighborhoods, they welcomed me into their homes lovingly, without hesitation or fearful natures. They didn't care who saw them talking to me. Actually, they appeared to enjoy my presence as I did theirs. The loving reciprocity overtook my heart. It was an amicable exchange. There were no malicious hidden agendas. I overflowed with giddiness. My heart blushed. I held back the tears. My puffy, eyes provided proof that I had become a water barrel. I thank God for the overflow but I wasn't anticipating a flood.
Yesterday, I ventured inside the ark, safely tucked away from harm's way. I witnessed God turn ordinary acts of kindness into overwhelming miracles. I saw faces light up with newfound faith. I heard testimonies of triumph. I experienced favor in meal preparations that didn't exclude me. Favor showed up in small acts of kindness, tokens of appreciation and genuine heartfelt love. Favor invaded my isolated camp with overwhelming invitations. My opinions and input were welcomed. I almost forgot that I had anything meaningful to share. Eyes were glued to my heart as I shared in complete honesty, without the disappointed looks of judgment. Instead my words were greeted with understanding.
After awhile it was too much for my little tear ducts to contain, I was forced to sneak away to the bathroom and release the overflow. God didn't bless me with just one guardian angel, I inherited a flock of them. One in particular that I try to avoid, because her anointing overwhelmed my spirit. She had a special way of looking through me, as if she read the pages of my hear in silence. I loved it but I felt a little intimidated. Her presence demanded accountability. She poured unselfishly into many areas of surrounding lack. She didn't come to my rescue. She didn't come to hold my hand with every step, but she affirmed my rightful fit in the kingdom. There was room for me after all.
"then your barn will be filled to overflowing, and your vats will brim over with new wine."
-Proverbs 3:10
God reassured me that I would never be thirsty again; he is indeed the "living water."
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