What happens when I just…write? When I let the words flow and I don’t stop it, edit it, evaluate or nitpick?
When I’m not trying to make anything fit a certain formula, or adhere to a level of doctrinal impressiveness? I study, but I’m no scholar. I’ll likely never impress you and that’s OK. It’s not why I’m here. My life is about glorifying my Savior and King.
After writing about my “temple”, with Hanukkah ending, I’ve been left wanting more. Perhaps something different.
It’s as if a statement was being made and the period at the end was missing. God isn’t through with me in this season yet. He had something else to say.
I spent time in prayer early this morning, feeling a heaviness. A burden. As I was praying through and crying out for my family and other’s needs, I understood something. The Spirit fit a missing piece-with great precision-in me.
That’s what my husband and I have felt. These past few years we felt it intensely. Circumstances and certain people reminded us of it. Or so it at least felt.
You’re on the outside. You don’t fit here.
I inadvertently was walking through my life trying to discover where I fit. Where I belonged. Where home was.
Who are my people? What do I need? Should I need? What do I want? What does Abba desire for me?
I searched and searched.
Maybe if I just fix this, change that, do this better, say this differently then I will be promoted to the title I’ve wanted more than anything.
I fit. I belong. I’m OK now. I’ve arrived enough.
But then God called out to me. He gave me a name I never heard Him say before.
Laurel. My daughter. The Insider.
I was never as detached as I felt, and He was (and is) holding me close. And everywhere I go there are people feeling the same way.
This is a bit different than how I normally write. I’m sorry if there’s a disconnect. But I just got something huge, in the stillness of a regular Monday.
Laurel. Daughter of God. Fearfully and wonderfully made with purpose. Called to tell others to come.
Luke 14:23 And the master said to the servant, ‘Go out to the highways and hedges and compel people to come in, that my house may be filled.