Waiting: Part 2: What's It?

Or, some stories for you. :)

Once upon a time, there was a little girl. And this little girl loved horses. (Don't most?) The fabled "horse bug" bit her when she was around seven years old, and it just never really quit.

Of course she asked for a horse, she wanted a horse--but her parents couldn't afford a horse, and that was that. So she wore the covers off her book on how to take care of horses, reading it and re-reading it. And always she hoped for a horse. She befriended horses that showed up in the cow barn (unfortunately they stayed only a few days) and then she made friends who had horses, and she got to ride one at long last. But only once or twice before her family moved. She still hoped for her own.

Eventually, three years after the initial bug bit, her grandpa offered to fund riding lessons every other week. She learned to walk and trot and eventually to canter. And still she hoped for her own horse. There were bad instructors and good ones, lost confidence and regained confidence, and as she got older the horses got younger and a bit wilder sometimes. There were more falls, more bumps and bruises, broken bones, drives home in tears because things didn't work out. And still she hoped for her own.

* * *

Once upon a time, there was a little boy. And this little boy decided he wanted to work with physically hurting people, to reach their spiritual hurts too. So when he grew up he went to college to study. 

But when he got to college some huge issues came up. Issues so big that it seemed there was no way through. No way around. No way over. He tried every angle. He analyzed every opportunity. But things just didn't seem to be looking up. So he asked, and he shared:

"What keeps you going?" 

The answer? Hope. Hope to make a difference. Hope to change someone's life. Hope to shine a light. 

So he kept getting up every day, and he kept going to class, and he kept hoping for that difference. There were no answers, and there were no guarantees, and the dream was held off (it seemed) maybe forever. He waited on the answers, and he waited on the outcome, and there wasn't much promise of a good turnaround and a happy ending. Still he hoped to be that difference. 

* * *

Two stories, two very different people, two very different situations. Or maybe, at the core, not so different after all.

What is "waiting"?

heart

(image via Google, design mine)

it's always an unlikely time when truth hits home.  This time, it comes as I'm sitting in sun-spotted shade atop a big dapple-gray mustang, joining my riding buddy in good-naturedly trying to persuade our instructor to vow she'll never leave our area. 

"aw," she says, "but my husband's cousins live there.  And..." she pauses and glances at me, "well your family, I haven't seen them much, but they seem to really be a family.  But you," looking at my new friend, "yours...you know, it's like mine.  And they [the cousins] really are family.  And it would just be fun to be part of that, you know..."

she goes on and I listen and it's not like she is really scarred, just opportunistic as always.  But me...another matter.  That night I go home and I'm angry.  It's strange to feel angry; I'm usually anything but simply mad.  But now I am.  It's not fair.  It's not fair that I have a "real" family and she doesn't.  It's not fair that I have a "real" family and my other friends don't. 

God, it's not fair!  Why?  I'm no better than they are!  

the heaven is quiet.  I watch a movie Monday night.  Courageous.   A great Christian movie and a great story line, but just one part stands out to me above all the rest: the brief gang initiation scene.  There more to give a quick background than anything else.  And I find myself crying.  Because I know this scene isn't for real, but suddenly I'm thinking about the kids who don't have "real" family and more often than not, this is what comes out of it.  What about the kids whose family never bothered to care about anybody other than themselves?  What about them? 

God, why must your children suffer?  WHY?  

"I would stop it if I would," He whispers.  If it were the best thing.  If stopping it would stop it for good.  But that doesn't work.  He showed that to us in the Flood, that just eliminating the problem-makers doesn't solve things long-term.  Someday we will have all chosen, and then sin can be done away with.  Safely.  In the meantime...

i see a glimpse of His heart.  And I see a decision I must make.  To back away is unthinkable.  So I choose to go.  To give heart with no guarantee back.  To touch other lives. 

thoughts

sitting here in the library and thinking, watching people go by (because I am hopelessly distractible when it comes to other humans...well, okay, when it comes to most anything remotely interesting).  The library is quiet in the morning but when afternoon comes, it comes alive--books, computers, people all over.

all ready to go riding this afternoon.  Homework done, helmet and half chaps in the car, keys in my pocket, beautiful warm spring day.  <3 <3 <3. 

listened in to an interesting conversation this morning; it's amazing what comes out over 6:00 breakfasts after a 5:15 start at work.  This campus, it needs Jesus.  I know most of us are Christians but you know, Christians still need Christ.  We need a permeating, all-encompassing, dive-in-deep experience with and passion for this Great I AM who is waiting right here for us to respond.

We need to find HIM.  What if we saw?  What if we knew?  What if our eyes were opened and we viewed the behind-the-scenes spiritual dramas that rage on this very ground?  Perhaps it would be enough just to think about it a little more, to ask our Father to give us more of His strength so we could join in with Him a little more often.  What do you think?

centered

centered is the new word I am thinking about.  (I get this every now and again, a word strikes me and I ponder its implications for a while, just fyi).  :)

when I ride the horses, I want to ride centered.  For me, simplified, that means I know where my weight is at, and everything else moves around that point.  Being centered gives balance.  Freedom.  Excitement.  A horse that will move forward and relax.  Whether I am centered or not all the time, I need to ride centered all the time, whether we're walking, trotting, cantering, jumping.  Otherwise I fall off eventually.  And when I attempt to fall off, my instructor nearly has a heart attack. . . and I love my instructor and don't want her to die, so I try not to fall off or look like I'm going to.  :)

centered.  I want to live life centered, too.  Centered in GOD.  In His Word.  I want my "weight" to be right there in Him, so everything else can move around that point.  So I can have balance and freedom, so I can move forward and relax, at the same time, no matter what we're doing together.

centered.