It’s been about three weeks since I lost my journal. Normally I’ll have uncovered it somewhere in my room or I’ll receive a phone call from some coffee shop saying someone’s turned in a “collection” of papers….other times it’s friends that remind me I’ve left it at their house or in their car. However, it’s been a while….I’ve had no news. And so I’m coming to face the reality that this one is a goner. In times gone past I would be sad, a little worried and definitely bummed. But these last few months there’s been so much going on that writing has been the last thing on my little mind.

I’ve been refreshed to sit. Just sit in the presence of the Lord. Not to write down what I’m learning but just to listen. Not to doodle when I’m afraid to be still but just to stay and hear. Not to feel like I’ll forget my days or my hearts concerns if they aren’t documented but just free. And really, even as much as I love to write and have a pen in hand and a blank page in my lap, there’s an new breeze and joy encompassing my spirit as I realize that this is fellowship. To be in communion with the Lord, not to talk about him, write or read about him all the time but to be with him, share with him and await his voice in my heart. I see myself buzzing to and fro and worrying about this or that, remembering at the end of day four I should have washed my hair on day two.

In the middle of little revelations like these I have heard the voice of the Father whisper to me, this is the road I have called you to. It will get more narrow now. I shudder and as I realize that I am so afraid of that road, of the sacrifice that it asks of my life. Since the journal went missing I’d been hoping so would this “thought” or voice. However consistently now there it is, beckoning me to lay aside my concerns, plans, desires and fears. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to be misunderstood. I don’t want to be uncomfortable. Wow. And how can I, me, who has been offered a new life not be willing to give what ever I have in return. What I am amazed by is how the Lord spoke through a random brother and broke through my fears to realize the grace of God again in my life. His love came rushing in once again and reminded me of the simplicity of the road that is before me. It is the road of the cross. This is the gospel. There’s nothing else I want to hear, no other place I want to be than here in this fellowship with my Savior. What more can I do? I owe him my very breathe-and he is so merciful that he lends me the privilege to become a daughter in HIS kingdom. What a grace. What an honor. So although my journal is lost and my thoughts at times are scattered, my spirit is well. My heart is guarded by the one who has created it and the road I have been called to, I will not walk alone.