[dropcap style=”font-size: 60px; color: #9b9b9b;”] M [/dropcap]y sister and I do quite a bit of texting. So much so that when I finally got an unlimited text plan, she rejoiced as she would no longer hear me moan at her to quit sending me texts that said “ok” or “howzit bra” when they were costing me 10 cents a shot. So the other day, she sends me a text that says “Can’t wait for this week’s blog.” I knew what she was referring to, but I had to provoke and say “why?” . . . Older siblings are great at provoking; my sons are figuring that out as well. Hav was hoping that I would blog about what happened to me on Sunday, but I had no plans on blogging about it as it was between me and God. I learned a long time ago that it’s never beneficial to cast your pearls before swine. You’ll mourn about the lost pearls in the long run. So I’ve posted about other things and skirted the issue . . . until now.
And I’m still going to only skim the surface as I just want to say this. For a long time now, I’ve mourned the loss of my laptop and all that was on it. My charting of dreams, visions, goals, words, scripture that all directed me along what my calling in life is was lost, and I’ve felt lost. Yet over the past few months, I’ve felt like it’s time to lay all that down. Forget about the past. God’s got new things, new direction, new steps, and maybe a new calling. So I focused on the here and now. What could I do to be a wife and mom here? And I did really well for a while, and then things started to change. I started feeling lifeless, without purpose, without direction. I started to cry out to God and to ask what was up? What is up with me? I am not meant to be just a wife and a mom. It doesn’t work for me. It works beautifully for other ladies, but not for me. I get grumpy, focused on dirty feet and laundry and my unending to do list, and it makes the guys in my life miserable as their wife/mom is miserable. It doesn’t work. It’s like forcing a square peg into a round hole. It’s pointless.
So I started to re-evaluate, started to spend more time in prayer, started shifting things, stuyding things, asking questions. I noticed that as my husband spends more time writing, as he focuses more on his creative giftings and how to use those to support his family, he seems happier. He’s exhausted, but I see more of who he really is. He’s a great husband, a great father, and a great writer. He’s all of that together, and none of them take away from each other. The excitement and the expectation of seeing his dream fulfilled is building in him, and it makes me happy and excited for him. The life that’s growing in him affects us as his family. Watching him started to spark things in me.
And then Sunday happened.
The long short of it is that God restored my heart. He loves me enough that He answered. He said Mic, I know that your heart has always been to partake of my heart, and this is my heart. He illuminated it, poured it out into me, and set off a fire. And my heart responded. He took the core of me, the core of who I’ve always been, what I’ve always longed to do, and meshed it with His heart, His vision, His purpose. Then He poured it down into my being, and all I can say is that I’m changed because of it. Yet the funny thing is that I’m more Micah than I’ve ever been. It’s like all the phases, seasons, experiences, dreams, etc. came together and the Lord gave me a glimpse of what it all looks like. It’s not finished, but I got to see it through His lens. And I don’t know if anyone who reads this will understand it, but it’s my feeble attempt of putting it into words.
I have always, always admired ladies who are passionate, who speak the Word, who encourage, who teach, who equip, and who flow out of God’s heart of love. My heroes of the faith are these women who have been world changers. And guess what? They’re also wives and moms. Yet most importantly, they are daughters of the Most High. They know Whose they are, and they flow out of that. I’m determined to join them. I don’t care if anyone ever knows who Micah is. I don’t care if we ever live someplace nice. I don’t care if we ever make the history books. But I do care about the day when I stand before my Redeemer and He takes account of my life. I want to hear Him rejoice and grin at me and say, “YES!! That was my heart and you demonstrated it. You loved the ones that I love. You loved your husband, you loved your boys, and you loved those that I put you in contact with. Well done, my daughter, well done.”
So I am on a mission. This lady is off and running!! 🙂 And this lady couldn’t be happier about it.