Catching Idle Butterflies

Messages

When I first began this vacation, I anticipated catching up on writing a story for an anthology and diving into a much needed edit of my novel so it will be presentable to a writer’s conference in February.

I printed out my manuscript and put it in a three-ring binder, but it has sat on my desk ever since, untouched. As for my anthology story, I’ve written less than a page. I was beginning to get frustrated with my lack of motivation.

And then I remembered something else I anticipated during the week, hearing God’s voice. I finally heard it, twice. God had not one message for me, but two. I tried to ignore the first one, but after the second message came, I finally understood the reason for the first one and its importance in relation to the second.

Okay, now that I have you confused, here’s what happened.

I have been afraid, close to even terrified to telling people about God, including those I love the most. When a situation arises where I can speak of God, I either stumble around or say nothing, in the end walking away feeling guilty for squandering my opportunities.

I kept hearing that still small voice telling me I have nothing to fear. Plus, as I was going through the reading for the Disciple class, I stumbled upon a note in my Bible (I knew I should have marked it, but I was a bit preoccupied with wiping tears off my face) that basically told me that I should not let fear prevent me from doing what I must.

That was the message I wanted to ignore.

The second message came through reading Anne Rice’s book I mentioned in "Floored!" . It’s written first-person from Jesus’ perspective as a young boy and how He tried to discover who He was. Anne Rice did her research of the history of the Jewish people and their culture. It’s a good thing I’m taking the Disciple class, because we just went through much of how they worshiped God during that era, so I understood much of what they did and many of the reasons why. (Coincidence? You be the judge).

But what struck me after finishing the book was how Anne showed Jesus as a child, growing up just like the rest of us, uncertain as to who we are and our purpose in this world. I now see Jesus as being right next to me as I struggle through my life, understanding every moment, and not sitting so high upon a throne I can never reach Him.

As an aside, I thought Anne did a terrific job of writing this story without being remotely preachy, a problem some Christian writers have (and I include myself in that crowd, but I’m working on it).

I also know one thing God expects from me. He’s been giving me hints for the last year, but it didn’t hit home until now. He’s been bringing people into my life who are so different from me, in their spiritual philosophies, life experiences, cultures, politics, you name it. While a few years ago, I likely would have brushed them off, hoping never to see them again, but now I see them completely different. It’s as though God wants me to see people through His eyes instead of my own, that He loves and longs for them to be near Him as much as He does me.

In the grand scheme of things, is politics, cultural and physical differences between one person and another all that important? I’ve realized that looking for things in people to disagree with, and yes, even hate, is not only pointless but wrong. We are called to go out into the world and spread the Good News, and that means everyone, not just those we’re the most comfortable with.

I’ve also learned that I can save not one single soul on this earth. I don’t have that kind of power, either with a stranger or those closest to me. All I can do is listen to God’s voice so that I may know and do His will, and pray that my words and actions will at least open up a heart or two so the Spirit can go in and do His magic.

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Change of subject, but if you have nothing better to do, I created a folder with photos of North Dakota, a few members of my family including my husband and myself you’re welcome to check out:

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