I feel very nervous about writing. I didn’t understand how to write until a few years into college. The words never came very easily to me in conversation, how could I put them together in writing?
A friend told me last March to be very selective in whom I share the stories that are important to my heart with. "Do not give what is holy to dogs, and do not throw pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces." (Matthew 7:6) It feels very uncomfortable to have my heart laid out on a table before so many to read on the world wide web. Once it is out there, I can’t take it back. So when I realized I will be expected to write for this trip, not only was I excited that others would get to share in the experience, but I was a bit nervous about what you may think.
I have prayed that God would help me write, and somehow I feel He wants me to write my heart. In some ways I can be a very private person unless pressed. If someone finds interest in me, I will gladly share my heart with them if I feel she can be trusted with it.
I trust the heart of God. I trust He wants me to share my heart and if you are reading this, know that my prayer for you is to know Christ, to be drawn to follow Him and ultimately to be willing to do what it takes to follow Him.
Like I’ve said before, I love to love people. However, I have not always done it well and many times, I do the opposite. I choose my own selfish gain over others on a daily basis. I pray that somehow God would be greater than my weak witness and that He would still reach people’s hearts in spite of it. I am not always Christ, so to be able to truly write and to reach anyone, it must begin with an apology.
I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the times I’ve misrepresented the heart of Jesus. He fed the hungry. Somehow I am only concerned with my own belly and if I got my share of oreos. He is the defender to the fatherless and the widow. I am too busy and concerned about my own agenda, I miss seeing those who are hurting. He is Love. I don’t even love my neighbor and try to not make eye contact for fear of a long drawn out conversation because I think I’m in a hurry. He gave His life as a sacrifice for my sin. I feel self-entitled, that you owe me something for all I’ve done for you. He forgave me of everything when I didn’t deserve it. I’m holding a grudge.
You matter to God. I’m sorry for when anyone told you that you don’t.
I’m still learning how to love and how to write love so that it matters to His heart while changing mine.
This book and movie were huge inspirations of mine last year.
