Matt talked in connection group today about Joshua and going through this life with strength and courage. It really challenged me, I have to say. He talked about "living a life worthy of your calling". What an accomplishment that would be. I mean, think about getting to Heaven, and Jesus Himself looks at you and says, "Way to go, Kid. You lived a life worthy of your calling." It gives me chills just thinking about it. In fact, I can't think about anything better. I have no doubts about what God has called me to in this life. It seems every day He confirms it a little more, bit by bit. In some ways I'm faithful, and in some I'm a bit more apprehensive.... but, hey! Even Moses was apprehensive, right? At what point, though, do we fix our eyes above and just say, "It's all about You. I'm done worrying what people think, say, do, imply.... I'm living a life to please You and no one else." That's my struggle... worrying about pleasing everyone to such a degree that I sometimes forget my life is ultimately for the pleasure of only One who knows me inside and out and still adores me, cherishes me, thinks I'm pretty awesome. Until I lay all my doubt and insecurities aside, I am convinced that a life worthy of my calling will always be just out of reach. So, tonight I'm praying for strength and courage. It was so nice to be reminded today that I have a Father who doesn't look at me with a critical or condemning eye but who sees me, really sees me, and insanely loves me anyway. Incredible. Thanks for the reminder, Matt.
And speaking of strength and courage, it's Sunday which means I need to post a bit of the novel. I'm still on chapter 10. This week was crazy, and I'm struggling a bit with this chapter. And please keep in mind, this is raw. Really raw and not nearly edited enough. Strength and courage! Here I go...
D Broc took a step toward them as though straining to understand their cries. He stared at them a moment, sardonically cocked his head, then pulled a handgun from his waist and shot both of them in the temple. Boom. Boom. Silence followed, then a laugh here and there from the others. They cursed the dead men, and as if the torture had not been enough, leaned in close and spat on their bodies. The gunshots resounded throughout Esther’s already trembling frame and forced her from stupor to all-out horror. Her heart cried out to her frozen limbs. Run! Without looking back, she turned and ran to the car, crawled inside and pretended to sleep.
Oh, and here's a picture we took last Sunday of Jeb and Grandpa. Every time I see Jeb's name written, in my mind, I see Grandpa's name, James Earl Burris. I know I probably won't do that forever, but I hope I do. What a man to be named for. I hope Jeb will always remind me of him and how blessed my life is because of him.
1 month ago