11:30

It’s nearly midnight, and I’m still awake. Up until two weeks ago this might not have been worthy of mentioning, but habits indeed change.

I have a work interview at 8 am tomorrow. I should be snug as a bug in my bed. It’s so quiet in the house right now. with the lights having all been put out, and the TV has at long last been turned off, it’s noxious glory fading swiftly in the silence. When everything is at rest my mind allows me to remember things.

Recently, being a Christian has become so hard to explain. How do you explain sunlight to someone who does not know warmth? How can you tell a person how a hug feels if they’ve never been touched? Living in this world is like walking a crowded street with  pale, sensory deprived, starving souls. I’m not much of a powerful evangelist (not yet, anyway), but I have been a witness through my lifestyle. I know what the Bible means when it tells us that our faith should not be like the waves of the sea, being pushed back and forth by every wind. My house is built on the Rock.

My co-worker once offered, “Lucy, you’re never in a bad mood. You’re always cheerful.”

And that is the place where I reach too many forks in the road, and I cannot tell which avenue is the one that doesn’t preach, but does not compromise the strength of the Spirit I carry. My mind quickly becomes so busy with potential words, that my mouth fails to offer any at all.

And I say this not to be vain in any conceit. I am simply plum tired of people hiding the good things in their life behind the face of ‘humility.’ because they mistakenly confuse God’s hand for their personal performance. I joyfully proclaim my cheerfulness because I know it comes from my Father! How do you explain why you are cheerful without someone rolling their eyes? And should them rolling their eyes matter? Where is the line between not pushing them away, and adoration for your Creator? And somehow as I write these words I know that I am  not thinking as a child. My mind is so convoluted with maturity. I pray for the faith of Stephen, and the authority of Paul, and for the servant-hood exemplified by Christ.

When my motivation for my Faith is questioned, I want to look intently into their eyes and ask, “Has anyone ever died for you?” I think the answer would most likely be no, and then I would understand how they don’t know what love is. They cannot know what love is. “Greater love has no man than this, than that he would give up his life for his friend.”

I remember reading the verse about how a man cannot know what love is without Christ. I was confused, because it seemed people loved each other all the time. But the longer I am a Christian, the more I find myself expounding my actions with, ” because Christ died for me.”

Why do I not judge? “Because Christ shed His blood to clear the judgement held over me.”

Why do I not fall into depression? “Because Christ gave His life so that I may have the Holy Spirit, a “sure anchor for my soul.”

Why do I not complain? “Because Christ made my cross, my burden, His own, and He carried it to His death.”

Earlier last year, the Holy Spirit convicted me of my tongue, my ‘ring through a sow’s snout;’ my idle, judgemental words. I realized that I had been a pig who covered her countenance with a sparkling jewel, like some distasteful joke. The more I decided to keep my mouth shut, the  more I realized how much I had been forgiven. When I listen to gossip and judgement, I feel like a recovered alcoholic seated at a bar with a horde of drunken louts; it would be far too easy for me to join in with their ringing tongues, I am much too practised in the art of indiscretion, but then there’s that still, small voice that asks me, “And what did I die for, dear one? How much blood was spilled to cover your tarnished heart and guilt? Who has made you beautiful, and why? And did I not lay down my life for them, as well?”

And I want to climb the highest mountain and proclaim to the world what Christ has done! I want them to understand love and forgiveness, and freedom! I want desperately for them to know God. I want to grasp their shoulders and make them understand a hug, and sunlight. It’s right before their eyes! I don’t even fully understand the vast goodness of our God, yet I know far more about it than most of the people walking this earth He created! His creation, the vessels of God’s goodness, sit untouched, empty and void. They reveal the craftsmanship of their Maker, yet they are listless.

If I had answered my co-worker’s comment honestly, I would have been in tears. I would have completely broken down from trying to explain warmth.

It is not until they believe our saviour  has died for them that they will understand love.

And people ask me why I pursue mission.

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