"For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father's house will perish. And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?" Esther 4:14
Show me, Jesus. Show me what you would have me do right here, right now, in this time and place where I find myself. You know me. You know where I am. I am here in this part of your Kingdom for just such a time. Use me right here, today.
When Colleen and I first started meeting together in the Lord--oh about 9 years ago--she was in a rural Louisiana home and I was about an hour outside Washington DC in certain suburbia. Our lives seemed different from each other, but also very similar. Back then, one of the stark differences was that she had Sonic Drive-thru nearby and I didn't, but the commercials played on the television and radio here. That meant that I still had Sonic ice cravings when I was pregnant, but couldn't act upon them. The struggle was real, my friends.
Then Colleen moved to Costa Rica and embraced 24/7, 365 days a year mission life. And our lives looked starkly different. Over the past few years, we've had lots of conversations about those differences. Sometimes, it's hard not to feel guilty that my mission is here and I am not immediately in danger of poisonous snakes or bugs or an active volcano. Colleen is. I don't serve indigenous women who walk countless miles through the jungle for basic maternity care. Colleen does.
What is the time for which I was born? This one. Here and now in northern Virginia. This is my place and this is my moment. And every day there are opportunities for works of mercy. Sometimes--often, really--there are chances for heroic acts of faith. They just look different here. The needy don't look so materially needy. The wounds are mostly hidden, deep beneath lovely clothes and perfectly manicured fingernails. I cannot put the pictures of these women on Facebook and ask for prayers. The piece of the Kingdom of God that has been entrusted to me is one of relative affluence. I remind myself daily that it it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God. (Matthew 19:24)
But God calls them. He wants them. He is waiting to heal them. These are souls in peril. I was born for a time such as this. Today, on the soccer field, in the grocery store, in the carpool pick-up line, be Christ to someone else. Someone who might not look sorrowful or suffering, but who has wounds only He can bind. Be the hands that heal in Christ, no matter where you find yourself in the Kingdom of God.
Motherhood can feel like the loneliest vocation in the world. Surrounded by children, who frequently bring us to our knees, both literally and figuratively, we can be overwhelmed by isolation. Mothers need community. We can be community for one another. We can encourage on another and hold each other accountable. If you like these short devotions, please share the image and send another woman here. And when you're here, please take a moment to pray with another mother who is visiting. Leave a comment and when you do, pray for the woman whose comment is just above yours. Just a moment--blessed--will begin to build community.
I like to pray when I run in the morning. Often, I listen to Divine Office and pray Morning Prayer or the Office of Readings. Then, I just take up a conversation with God. I'd love to pray for you! Please leave your prayer requests below and we can pray for each other, no matter how we spend our morning prayer time. Meet me back here tomorrow and I'll share the ponderings from my #morningrun.