This was typed on my notes app, so grammar nazis beware.
Timehop. Somedays, timehop is the bane of my existence. Timehop shows you things that you posted on social media that same day up to 5 years before. It plagues me with memories of ex boyfriends and failed English classes and horrible jobs and life decisions and things in my life I’d rather just forget. I always complain to my team about a picture or quote or something that happened and they always ask the same thing, “Mary, why don’t you just delete it?” Until today I’ve never had an answer for that. It just doesn’t feel right to delete it. What would that accomplish? Deleting timehop won’t delete time. If I delete timehop, I still will have dated that boy, failed that class, and had that drink. Deleting timehop will do nothing but take away reminders of the lessons God has taught me, even before I knew Him. Deleting timehop will appease my need to be comfortable and cushy and content. My need to forget the hard things. I say all that to say that today on my time hop, the first post I ever made about being accepted on the race, accompanied by the first blog I ever wrote entitled ‘Why I’m going on the worldrace’ or something original like that popped up. Now here I am month 4 into the race, and I’m in a pretty lax month, where being an “m” word is illegal and the name Jesus can’t be spoken too loudly. That’s hard. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget why you’re here and why you came. Sometimes you feel like just a tourist or just an English teacher. Some times it feels like your purpose has been taken. So today, timehop reminded me why I’m here with my first blog post. For me, once I’ve posted a blog it’s posted and I typically don’t think about it again unless someone comments or draws my attention to it. Timehop reminded me. I went back and read that blog, and I scoffed at myself and thought how naive I was then and how much I’ve seen since. Things you see that at first you can’t believe you’re seeing, become normal and it’s very easy to get a negative view of life, of your calling. It’s so easy to forget the good. We went to prayer walk on the beach today and as I stood on the shore looking out over the grey ocean, under the grey cloudy skies I watched the waves crash on the rocks and stood in wonder at what had happened to me. A week ago I told my squad mate and friend Megan about how beautiful this beach was. About how I could see God sculpting the mountains beyond the shore, mixing the colors for the ocean at his easel, the way it goes from blue to green, Him blowing the sand out of the palm of his hand onto the shore and pouring sunshine onto the water from the sun like melted gold. And now I look out and I see a dirty beach with harsh ugly grey waves, ugly cloudy mountains and grey/black skies. The waves began to hit me, and my toes sunk in the sand. I watched as the waves pounded on the shore, running away from the abuse of the tides pull, scrambling for the beach trying desperately to pull away and God said the me, “Mary those waves are the souls of a million men trying desperately to flee the weight of their sin and this world, only to be pulled and thrown back into the depths by the hands of the enemy.” Whoa. Well that’s some good imagery God, but what am I supposed to do about it? I’m already here remember? What more do you want from me? Then he said, “Mary look down. Look at yourself. You’ve been so keen to notice the grey. The grey waves, the grey water, the grey mountains, the grey skies. Have you looked at yourself today?” (I have on my tie dye shirt, bright blue shorts, aqua rain jacket and bright yellow flip flops). He said “how much more light could I have had you wear today? How much more of a reminder do you need that YOU are a city on a hill and YOU CANNOT be hid. Unless…you choose to be. So you can stand there on the beach alone and see the grey, or you can step into what I have made you to be and be the light. Those million men will keep running to the shore in search of my grace and my salvation for a hundred years only to be thrown back into the depths of despair unless you step out of yourself and into me. I have chosen you the be the hand that pulls them up into the shore and into my grace. How long are you gonna stand on the shore with your hands in your pocket watching them be pulled back scoffing that my creation isn’t good enough, and feeling content with yourself just because you’re here. I have called you to more than to just be there.”
WOW. Wowowowowowowowow!
Now I know that was a lot. I’m still reeling from the sound of His voice myself. I’m standing here rapidly typing this into the notes section on my phone. The waves are running towards me, begging me to hold out my hand.
I don’t even know if I am aloud to post this blog in this country, but I’m just gonna trust his sovereignty and His protective hand and post it because it needs to be said and I don’t believe in waiting when God tells you to go. I’m taking my hands out of my pocket. Please be praying for this country. He is here. He looks at the law of man saying his name can’t be spread here and laughs.
Also, the final deadline is drawing ever near. (I don’t actually know when it is, but I know it’s in a month that’s starts with J and I’ll be in Africa). I am about $1200 away (SO CLOSE!!!) should you feel led I wouldn’t hate a donation. Thank you dear friends and supporters!
-Mary
