I’ve got
“Where I Belong” by Cory Asbury on repeat on iTunes. It’s quickly become a song that resonates with my
heart. All of it is good, but I just
find myself echoing the second chorus and tag, but mostly the tag (in bold):
I am my beloved’s and he is mine / Come into your garden
and take delight in me / Take delight in me. . .
Here in your presence, God, I find my rest / Here in your
presence, God.
Now I
also really want a Rhodes. I was trying
to find a voice on the keyboard that was comparable – some of the organ sounds
were distant runners-up (way distant) – but to no avail.
in full-time ministry has its share of cloudiness, too; the
marketing/mobilization team has seen brighter days than the past week. It was a reality check – full-time ministry
is work. As challenging yet more
fulfilling it has been so far, already I just wanted not to DO anything and just BE.
into this job is taking longer than I thought. It’s been almost a month since I left the law firm and I’m realizing
that it’s not so much the “9-to-5” environment I’d been “rebelling” against as
it was how I was spending those hours and what I was doing in that space.
there’s a great deal of flexibility in working remotely, but ironically it
doesn’t feel quite as liberating as I expected. I don’t quite know how to explain it – Seth does in this post, “We have
to learn the rules to walk in freedom“ – but to me, I feel like I’m
water being poured out of a plastic bag. I’m not flowing as strongly as I could be; I feel like I’m sputtering
out. But put me in a container with a
bit more (not a whole lot) rigidity – like a glass or a vase – and I’d flow
much more smoothly, streaming down with strength.
In an
attempt to provide myself with that structure, I ventured out to Borders
bookstore. There was an outlet available
for me to plug my laptop into, but the table that was vacant and close enough to
the outlet was one of those raised tables and correspondingly elevated
chairs which suits someone of my
stature.
I popped
my earphones in and Jonathan David Helser provided my soundtrack for working. Then I sneezed. Loudly. I covered my mouth with my arm. Then I spotted a wee bit of mucus/snot on my
sleeve (’twas a pity that I had just
done laundry the night before).
note on Facebook of this less-than-classy moment of my life (that will surely have all the eligible bachelors come ’round knockin’ down my door), which, sure enough, got all
kinds of responses. No one seemed to
notice the New York Times article
about Haitian refugees writing letters of discontent and pleas for aid I
shared, though…
- the “quiet” time I had with
God last week, which I could only have enjoyed because I worked from home - how my heart feels more and
more like five loaves of bread and two fish - a raw appeal for your
partnership. - Broadway musicals and
missions pair well together.
However,
when Talia and Jeff first told me that the
marketing/mobilization team was very understaffed, I am realizing now, they were not exaggerating. As a result, writing for my
own sake gets put on the backburner.
But even in
the thick of drafting copy for an upcoming newsletter, I couldn’t resist the urge to start somewhere; those
aforementioned blogs will come sooner than later, I hope. I will
give you a sneak peek of my “appeal,” however:
Last year, I returned from the World Race, sent to
be like Jesus and do what he did across the globe. I am now taking on a role that is akin to being like/doing as John the
Baptist did – preparing the way for and sending others out like Jesus and the
disciples. At my current level of
support, I am a month away from living John’s lifestyle literally (okay, almost literally)… (click on the link to help save me from
the locust diet)…
