My friend pointed out a fact that never really crossed my mind or really even simply sank in.
“Katie,” she said in one of our marathon Jesus conversations, “You have one year left on that campus. ONE YEAR. How are you going to leave that campus? How is your group going to look when you leave?“
I wanted to cry.
I wanted to start running.
I wanted to step back and reflect.
In such a flurry of confusion and expectancy my soul started singing the song that I thought it’d forgotten.
At first it was a faint melody, like the sound of walking across the campus towards the music building. There is nothing like walking and hearing a musician playing a piece that so gracefully carries along the wind. And as you come closer, the music begins to grow in volume.
This song deep within my being makes me want to run, to dance like I once did in my youth. To be completely careless and free in the greatest dance of my life. For my movements to be created by the King of Kings, the song is the calling on which the God of Heaven and Earth has specifically composed for my life.
But in the midst of a great desire to simply get lost in the beauty of being surrounded by God, the moment happens where He stops me.
“Katie,” the small voice fills the many nook and crannies of my mind. “How are you going to let me use you to revolutionize your surroundings?”
My brain tries formulate an answer merely worthy enough to be acceptable. But I cannot think of one. No matter what I try say, it doesn’t feel right.
Finally, it appears.
I just need to be the one thing I have been saying since I started writing. It’s the one thing that so often keeps me from fully running after God. How can something this simplistic be the truth?
It doesn’t matter what I should be open to, but to simply view every opportunity and interaction as a chance to simply love people, to have Jesus shine through me if that is His will.
Because we can say we love our campus, we love UNT, we love the city, but if we don’t love the people, the broken and crying out hearts that have wandered too far down the road most traveled, the people who just need someone to walk beside them and help them to know the Light, the Truth, then it’s pointless. As it says in 1 Corinthians 13, I am merely a clanging cymbal. I am more of a annoyance than a beautiful sounding instrument.
He just wants me to be open to Him, because spring is coming and it is almost time to start planting the harvest.