It's exactly a month until I go again.
Indiana, the state of relatives and ministry and situations that I can in no way fully prepare myself for.
For some odd reason I honestly expected to be less afraid the third time around.
This time I take Naomi with me, the sunshine in my world coming with me to be sent out into the dark places and teach the Gospel to the young. This will be so good for both of us.
We will come back changed, and having changed others as well.
I remember last year vividly- teaching a room full of the offspring of drug dealers (the next generation of misfits) and seeing them glow while singing praise to God.
They received Christ and faith and a Bible to guide them, and they wanted so badly to change.
If only I was so eager for my own sanctification.
Rough ugly slabs of marble are we, chiseled smooth by our loving Maker. When He blows dust away revealing a spot of silky seamless, we are so very proud. "Look at what the Artist is doing in
me." We would love to stand there and show off our smooth parts. As far as we're concerned we are in no need of any further work. But in His eyes we are still quite unfinished.
Looking at the past couple of months, I've come far. I don't know exactly what God was using to shape me, but it has felt a whole lot more like a chainsaw than a chisel.
And yet it continues. Part of God promising He will never leave or forsake me {Hebrews 13:5, Deuteronomy 31:6} is also the promise that he won't let me stay the way I am, because he loves me far too much to do that.
That is a greater gift than the illusion of peace that comes from a pain-free life.
So. Almighty God, change me.
