A Revolutionary?

Lord, do you think maybe I could just do the laundry today?

I read a post by songbird last night & the words keep tumbling around inside my head. A year later, she talks about Katrina, the aftermath, and the needed revolution.

There is so much more than that to her post and that is why I'm thinking today. I sincerely believe we need more revolutionaries in this day in so many arenas of our lives. We need people who are willing to ask tough questions and demand answers. We need people who are willing to abandon all to the pursuit of God's call to go forth. We need people who are passionate about stewardship of our world, protecting the vulnerable, picking up those crushed in the wheels of the system. We need these people in the schools, in the voting booths, in public office, in church pulpits and pews. We need them on staff at prisons. We need them to step forward to lead in our communities and to step out into the streets. We need them writing and speaking and doing. We need more!

I would have been voted least likely to become a revolutionary by my senior class so many years ago (almost 30!) if there was such a senior superlative category. I was correctly voted "quietest girl". That's one of many things that have changed since then. Just ask usually darling hubby about his "quiet" wife. Still most people would identify me as an introvert.

I've been quietly, personally revolting against so many things but I'm sensing it's finally time to really find my voice and shout. I can be loud, I'm just not courageous in the face of what often seems an insurmountable wall of ignorance. Is it disrespectful or intolerant to use the word ignorance? There seems to be no other appropriate word.

I took a break after writing the above paragraphs. A break from typing, but not from the thoughts.

And now I've been reminded of the times I have spoken out or acted. Perhaps not as often as I wish. Certainly, I discredit myself by focusing only on all the times I heard the command within to stand, speak, act and I did nothing but melt into a puddle of swirling anger and fear. And I'm reminded that I must not diminish the hours when I stood firm in my resolve against the machines of this age. Those were times when so many did not even take a stand but sheepishly submitted or jumped on the bandwagon of injustice. Perhaps to guard against becoming proud or judgmental, I realize there were those days when I too readily fell in with the crowd without a thought to the consequences to others. I remember the times I have actually taken on the role of the revolutionary but without a spirit of love and compassion. It is a spiral of thoughts. I did. I didn't. I should have. I failed. I failed again.

I think that I can do nothing. God speaks to me in my momentary despair. Perhaps I am both right and wrong. I can do nothing without the grace of my Lord. I can do nothing without courage and strength from the source of all. But, I can do anything if I am obedient to the leading of God, focused on the One who revolutionized our world beyond human imagination and prayerfully reliant on the Spirit to provide the words and voice necessary for a single moment.

And is it really about my inability? Did not God bless me with specifically selected talents? Was I not chosen for a purpose or a purpose chosen just for me? Do I really believe I am not able, by God's provision? Or Is all this just another excuse to remain comfortable.

Comfort is transient.

God is making this current spot of easy contentment, very uncomfortable. I squirm and know that I will not be able to just sit here in the luxury of familiarity for much longer.

Is it really all about me? Or perhaps I'm looking within when I need to be looking outward, not only beyond my mind, my perceptions of failure and success, my self-imposed limitations, my emotional comfort; but beyond my secure, suburban door and beyond my safe, familiar church chair.

I understand the task, but I struggle with it's completion. When we grasp a trinket so tightly, we can not reach out to receive the jewels that God offers. When we hug our tiny world so firmly, we cannot free our hands to do the work God calls us to do. There is risk in release. There is fear.

The spiral of thoughts is finally coming to a conclusion. It took so many words to get here.

It can be summarized in a simple statement. When I relinquish myself, I will be ready to receive something greater.

And by an even simpler question. When?