So there were these words written here by Ann Voskamp. And these words they trickled from my inbox into my heart where they inspired, and moved, and made me move toward Him.
And there were these words that trickled from my pen. My humble response to Him.
From the pages of my journal…
Lord, thank you for these words that remind me that the “just” moms, and the small callings, and the tiny steps are made huge by you and your Kingdom. The work I do today seems small but it is pure, and true, and it is all I have. It’s all I love, and it is all for you.
I smile giddy at the thought that you saw fit to bless me with a calling I love so much. My girls. My man. My writing. And to think that you could…that you would…see fit to use “just” me. To think that you would use me to do the small in order to accomplish the big…to change the world, to change even ONE lost, hard, or hopeless heart. It makes my heart twist and my eyes blur.
It doesn’t seem real, or possible, or true. It doesn’t seem likely. But why not? To say it isn’t, to say it can’t be so, is to doubt not only me but you. And I am done being the Doubting Thomas.
Haven’t you proven worthy millions of times?
And there is Ann and her miracle. She started just like me, at her kitchen sink, with her kids, and her farmer. With her homeschooling books laid open and scattered. She started just like me with words burning in her soul and questions longing for answers.
And she did the work, and she asked the questions, and she said the thanks until she lived the thanks. She was flawed, but she was faithful.
And you, you took the kids, and the farmer, the books, the words, the questions, the thanks, and the longing. You took the mom, and the small, and the flaws and you spun out love, and grace, and miracles.
You did this. Not just for the mom at the sink but for countless others. You rippled the love, the grace, the miracles through the world, your very Kingdom here on earth.
So why not? Lord, why not me? Why not you and me together; forever spinning out miracles?
It is all and everything I want. To be found faithful with the kids, and the man, and the books. To be found faithful with the words, and the questions, and the longings. To offer the small, and the flaws, and the whole of the heart to you.
To take what you give and give thanks. To break it into pieces, into a family, into words, into a world desperate for you.
So it might be shared.
So it might be given.
Broken to bless.
I am just a mom. But this, it could be my story.
My ripple in this world.