Writing Prompt: (My 8 Wonders)

 

 

Today's Question: In what setting or circumstance do you feel most at home with who God made you to be?

I love this question, this writing prompt that was tweeted yesterday, yet I really struggled with this for awhile. Chewed on it. nomnomnom. It just feels like I've been so NOT at home, in a lot of ways, with who I feel God made me to be, for a lot of years. Am just starting to fight my way back to the surface now, pecking my way out like a baby chick must do to get out of her egg and into the world. peck, peck, peck. Interesting that God could've let the mama chicken easily help the baby out, but no, the chick needs to do the pecking herself, to make herself stronger. and so must I. peck, peck, peck.

So my answer is coming out in spurts, in a few disconnected, scattered moments and memories that warm my heart and pull me back to that place where I feel I'm right where I belong, in the place God created me for. Moments like....

Sitting around a campfire, playing my guitar for a kids/teens' evening devotion and worship time, smelling like Off! and smoke and burnt marshmallows, listening to the crickets and owls, the warm light of the fire flickering and reflecting off the young faces across from me, faces mesmerized by the burning embers, and looking up at a starry sky, singing to the One who knows each star by name, and every hair of my head.

or..

Snuggling with my young son, finding that place at the end of the day where, despite of day's craziness and my boy's willful mischief, he's still my baby.

or..

Raising my hands unabashed, in unrestrained worship to music in my quiet kitchen, knowing it's Jesus alone I'm singing for, and He's smiling and holding up my open hands.

or...

Holding a diaperless baby in a foreign land, feeling just as at home in their poverty-stricken, dirt-floor one-room house as my own luxurious abode, sharing contented smiles with the baby's sweet family, and awkwardly communicating in broken Spanish and comical sign language how beautiful I thought the baby was...

or..

Standing in my hiking boots at the top of a rugged mountain top, overlooking a remote, empty beach, on a mountain that I traveled to and climbed all. by. my. self. And had no fears for the trip back home again.

or...

Clicking the "publish" button on my blogging app after I've poured out my heart, scraping out the very insides of my soul, plopping it out into words, neatly diced, that feel oh-so-right, clearly expressing what I'm feeling.

or...

Lending a listening ear to a friend in need, whether it be over coffee at a mommy's meeting, over a beer at a bar, on the roof of a frat house or at a school bus stop in the rain. Listening without judging. Caring before speaking.

or...

Wearing fins, snorkel, mask and swim suit, calmly exploring the shallowish depths of a warm tropical ocean reef, thankful for strong lungs to keep me down inside this magical aquatic wonderland for as long as possible, and for strong legs to propel me further and further through the schools of beautiful, colorful fish, greeting more and more wonderful creatures that God made for me to enjoy.

These are all moments where I'm feeling the most comfortable in my skin, in the shell God zipped me up in. Like these are the connected moments, where I'm loving God, by loving His people, His creation, and His gifts. And I'm feeling the warmth of His smile, like sunlight, in every ounce of me.

Wish I could bottle these moments; would sprinkle it on generously during the harder times, the days of peck, peck, pecking.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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