First, the Epitaph; then Life

imagesI want to live free.  Anyone with me?

The Bible tells me His Truth sets me free.  I know the Word.  Some days I just don’t believe It.  On those days, I have to take action.  I have to first obey the Truth by faith and then hope the assurance of that faith is manifested in my life.  If I wait until I felt free and full then most mornings, I’d probably never leave my bed.

The Bible is full of paradoxes.  The way up is down.  The first are last and the last are first.  To live is to die.  The servant leads; the leader serves.  To get you have to give, first.

I took my first step to getting this week.  Each morning I pray for the fullness of His Spirit.  I hunger to walk in His extraordinary power given only by a fresh anointing of His Spirit.  If I added this addendum, “and I won’t get up until that power overwhelms me” then I’d probably lay there for days, maybe even the rest of my life.

Proof I’m still not waiting under the covers, I started my volunteer service at Streetlight Phoenix.  I’m excited about the possibilities.  It’s my new mission.

I hope someone is asking, “But how did you know it was your new ministry?”  Good question, thanks for asking.  God broke my heart for the hurting young children.  I wept for days.  Every story, every child, every thought, nearly everything caused me to cry.  I saw with His heart.  I wept with Him.

I made the commitment.  I took the first steps.  His power came in the tears.  Now I am one step closer to living out an earlier homework assignment.  Below is the bio I wrote for journalism class, my introduction to the class.

imagesIn God’s Kingdom of paradoxes, it’s best we write our epitaph first, and then live it out for the world to see.

The year is 2013 and slavery still exists.  There are over 27 million men, women, and children bound in shackles, sweatshops, or brothels.  No country or city is innocent.  Child prostitution and sex trafficking exists in our neighborhoods while slave labor merchandise clutter our homes. 

 

I understand slavery.  I once lived in captivity.  Not every slave wears visible chains or bares the scars of a master’s whip.  But every heart beating on this planet has at one time been a slave to something.  I barely survived a heart in the clutches of habitual sin. 

 

But now I live free.  Free to enjoy the security of my home, the sweet unity of my 32-year marriage, the beautiful relationship with my two married children, the immeasurable joy of my grandson’s hugs and the sweet anticipation of our second grandson. 

 

I’m at the stage of life when I face fewer years before me than behind.  Retirement is an option.  I’ve taught children to read and write as well as a bit of history, math and science.  Countless hours have been logged in community service.  Years were spent in ministries serving others as a teacher, mentor, pastor’s wife, and friend.  But I can’t stop now. 

 

While I rock my grandson, singing love songs into his ear, I wet his sweet cheeks with tears for the young women, children and babes who are raped daily of their innocence and hope. 

 

Most nights, I dream of traveling the world.  Not to delight in the exotic sights, but to search those desolate places tourist pay to ignore.  My goal is to write passionate stories that inflame my readers to action.

 

While my husband networks CEOs to battle drug lords, slave traders, and sex traffickers, I continue to teach and train.  The billions of the walking-dead living like zombies craving a new heartbeat need to hear the truth. 

 

Those who never see the light of day or feel the warmth of a smile pray for abolitionists who will fight for them.  I am one person but I walk free in the supernatural power of a mighty God. 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: