next meal, my next bed, my next shower… these were never things that crossed my
mind. Protective was my dad’s first name and pasta cook and homework helper
were my mom’s. The most danger I was faced with was the freeway during rush
hour. I can’t imagine a time growing up that things didn’t seem greener on my
side of the fence.
As
time passed, so did the lifespan of that grass. The green became less vibrant,
and in a few places it began to brown and fade away. The more I watered, the
more things flooded. I realized it wasn’t in my hands any longer, but that I
needed new seed.
Forme that seed meant stepping out in faith, trusting that the more I planted, the
more I’d reap, and only when He
told me the harvest was ripe. That seed wasplanted in the children of Coleraine, Ireland and the fields of Oknitsa,
Moldova. A few more seeds were cast amongst baby food jars in Budapest, Hungary
and mosques in Istanbul, Turkey. As the plains of Israel watered the crop and
filled me up, my Jordan River baptism provided a much-needed downpour. After a
few more seeds thrown to the Watoto children in Kampala, Uganda and mixed in
with the concrete in Kitale, Kenya, it was time for another round of rain. A
few days of Him, the Nile, and me. After the planting of spring
seeds to thekiddos in Mwanza, Tanzania and cinderblock in Nong Bua Bong, Thailand, He is
telling me, the harvest, my harvest, is almost here.
It
is blossoming, and the fields are full, but despite the masses of fruit, the
workers are always in lack. I don’t want to be one of those. I want to be
present and ready, regardless of the day or the hour. I want to be on guard,
prepared, and dressed to meet the King. I want my time to matter.
tonight as I sat and watched US Military Tribute videos, I cried. There is so
much loss and yet so much hope all at once. I am in Vietnam where things aren’t
easy, and communism is still present, but I’m not on the front lines. And there
is something inside me that can’t help but wonder, what if I was? What if we
all were? What if we treated this life, this mission field, this Kingdom as a
battlefield?
Would
you live differently?
Would
you treat others with more love?
Would
you do everything you could to make His name known?
……
Or would you sit back with your latte on Facebook, knowing your daily reading
can happen later and this air conditioner just feels to darn good……
