May you always be my first love. That my heart would be in tune with yours.
Five days a week for four years now I've woken up each morning to my alarm at five am, but I don't actually get out of bed until 5:24. In that time I've hit snooze three times, and attempted to turn my grumbles into prayers. The prayers are usually only a few desperate words asking for the strength to simply pull myself up and out of the mess of blankets, pillows and warmth.
I've never been a morning person, the fog in my brain is so thick that it usually takes a couple hours (and a few cups of coffee) for it to break enough to form full sentences and process information at normal human speeds. Lately the mornings have become more like a burden, they've become a reason to rage and complain. The morning, the hope of a new day and new mercies, has become tiresome.
Over the last few months, I have felt a deeper weariness and restlessness in my bones. A deeper burden, and a heavier heart. I've sat in my cubicle surrounded by mostly silence with only the occasional chuckle, cough or hushed conversation between co-workers and I've just cried. Cried over the lives of wandering refugees, cried over the loss of my 17 week old unborn cousin. Joyful tears over marriages and pregnancies. I've cried over broken relationships, as well as restored ones. My heart has been rung out for the unborn, and the desperation of their mothers, for orphans and abandoned children. And the more I see of the sorrow and hopelessness of the least of these, the more my heart grows in love for them. In my cubicle, I feel helpless.
I sit in a chair in front of two computer screens five days a week filing contracts, answering phone calls and participating in office banter and chatter. And I question whether this is really where the Lord desires me to be. I challenge Him with questions about whether He really knows what He's doing. Why, Lord, would you plant a deep rooted burden and heartache for the motherless in my heart, yet not use me to care for them? I throw up my hands and tell the Lord I've had enough that the heartache is too great. I've questioned why the Lord gives me desires, vision and compassion for the hopeless just to let it sit in my heart and grow to the point of seemingly splitting me apart?
So I get out bed at 5:24 discontent and grumbling about being awake, faced with the reality of spending nine hours in that chair. I've realized that my perspective is skewed, my pride takes me to a place where I convince myself that I know better than my Creator. I see a desk, post it notes, a pile of emails, and office chatter as pointless, void of purpose and ineffective for the Kingdom. When really Jesus has and is growing great purpose in all seasons of my life. Jesus has not left me without purpose. He has given me a heart for the motherless and the love I have for them will not be wasted. Even at this desk Jesus is doing a work for the Kingdom. He has called me to faithfulness, to obedience, to gospel centered service to everyone I meet within these office walls, as well as outside of them. My heart beat shouldn't be anything other than that of Christ. To hear his voice, and to act in obedience to the call He puts on my life. He's not interested in fulfilling the daydream of a glamorously sacrificial life of service to orphans and widows in third world countries. He desires faithful and obedient disciples, and if by obedience He leads me to a third world country I will go, but that's not the goal or the prize.
For years my Mum has quoted Tommy Nelson, encouraging me and my sisters often. He says, "bloom where you are planted." These office walls are where I've been planted for the last four years, and I will be here until He calls me out. This is my mission field and I want to be a willing and joyful laborer in the harvest. I want to plow the fields and work hard and faithfully unto the Lord.
I pray for a heart that welcomes the mornings with deep joy and I pray for days filled with it until I lay my head down to rest so I can do it all again the next day. Within the sunrise and sunset of each day there are new mercies. I have the opportunity and the honor to praise the name of Jesus and to love and serve His people well. To die to self and to know my Savior more intimately than the day before. The morning is not a burden, but a great joy and a gift.
"Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering,
for He who promised is faithful..."