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| This isn't from my house, but you get the idea. #upperpeninsulaprobs |
Maybe the Mayans were right. Maybe the entire world is going to be destroyed by extensive amounts of snow, ice, and wind. Soon enough, we'll all be saying our farewells to our friend Planet Earth, as we nibble on the last of our gingerbread houses and candy canes.
I should have just stayed down in Ohio. You know how much snow we had when I left campus? None. It was wonderful. Then I come back up north to the Upper Peninsula (think: Canada, essentially...I actually do have Canadian blood, but I digress). Suddenly, the weather is all like "Ya know, we could really use a nice 15 feet of snow right about now."
Next thing you know, I'm spinning out in parking lots, trekking down unpaved back roads, and freezing to death trying to shovel out my driveway just so I can pull into the garage. Yay Michigan.
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| Probably should not have gone outside town today. Couldn't see a thing on those roads. |
While I was shoveling, I was reminded of what bad circulation I have in my hands. Even just a few minutes of shoveling makes my hands go numb; it's awful. But just as bad as the numbness, if not worse, is the burning sensation once I get back inside where I belong. Especially if you run them under warm water--it's bad. Your fingers feel like they are on fire.
It takes the burning feeling to break you out of your numbness.
Last spring semester, I was numb. God was more of an after-thought--a genie, a get-me-out-of-this, and above all, a Person to throw blame and anger onto when things went poorly. I couldn't help it, really. I watched as leadership opportunities, radio station positions, unpaid internships, paid job applications, and relationships fell apart in front of my face--all within a month or two. I felt like I got burned.
Numbness. Lack of feeling.
That's not entirely true--I did feel, and I felt angry. Mostly because I didn't realize I was numb.
It took that burning sensation to snap me out of it and bring me where I was supposed to be.
I'm glad to say I'm not numb anymore. God has a habit of disciplining you, then pulling you out of the burning ashes to remind you He loves you. He then went on to spark some fires of His own in the midst of my circumstances--things I never thought about before or cared to think about.
Jail ministry. Urban missions. World evangelism.
As I look at where God has brought me from over the summer, I am excited at where I am at. I finally understand how people can say that they would never change what God allowed in their lives--it makes you who you are.
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| Also, homeless people have awesome beards. Maybe being homeless for a weekend is why I'm growing my beard out. |
I'm excited to have had the chance to experience first-hand the problem of poverty in an urban setting--both in the classroom and literally on the streets. I look forward to a shift in focus towards world missions during yet another class with Dr. Cook this spring. I cannot wait to see what kind of impact I can have on the city I intern with this summer (should that happen), whether that be Nashville, Columbus, or wherever. I thrill at the very real possibility to go to Kenya for three weeks in May to serve in missions--to "tell the world," as Lecrae says.
In the end, I've learned that there are no mistakes--only lessons learned.
Sure, the burning sensation still hurts. It'd be lying to pretend it doesn't still burn and scar.
But that's what it takes to keep you from being numb inside.
And eventually, the burning takes you from the numbing cold where you were, and brings you inside to the place you need to be.
And I find that exciting.
