I have been thinking long and hard about how mentorship and discipleship looks specifically for women for a few years now. In a recent conversation with a gal that is the epitome of a mentor in my life, she expressed a need for the "season ahead" person in her life. Her qualifier was that she knew lots of great women who were regularly in and moved by the word, but she is the type that can speak it in her everyday conversations. She doesn't need to look it up real quick. It is in her mind and living. She can speak it over you. That is what she needed to grow. I cannot do that and it is embarrassing. Here is why. I'm a really good person-very moral, caring, and just nice in general, but then I ask this question:
Are my momentary decisions and day to day decisions made based on the word?
Let me explain this and I hesitate to, because it is good to do good and nobody know about it. It's Biblical, in fact. It becomes a matter of having the word planted so deep that you are listening and blocking out anything and everything that may distract you from His purpose and feed your purpose. Do we listen for the Word speaking in our life? Like what does it look like to actually be thinking about the word all the time, changing diapers, folding clothes, swiffering, scooping poop, mowing the lawn, paying bills, checking out at the grocery store. I mean hard core focus on heavenly things. And yes, I have a half written blog in process about how anxiety and worry pull us down from that focus on heavenly things.
So true story...Boy was in party mode and bought this ridiculously large platter of cookies to take to a dinner party, which were sent home with us because the hosts didn't want to, well, get fat. I don't want them to stay in my house because I don't want to, well, get fat. As I stretch myself to meet our new neighbor's, I learn that our neighbor's family is in town. There are like 8 kids and multiple family members, probably about 20 people staying in a 3 bedroom house. I think, I should take them these cookies. Those kids would love it!
I don't. I see that another neighbor just started back to work after her maternity leave and I think,"You need to bag some up and leave them hanging over the back fence and let her know to check the "Wilson Wall."
I don't. How often I feel a surge of goodwill and do nothing about it. Yesterday, my friend invited me to the pool with her kids, so I pack a few cookies to surprise her 3 year old with. They have snacks there, so they are still in my bag on the way home. I feel like Dexter, but with a "light passenger" that has gone too long without giving, not a "dark passenger" that needs to get a psychopath fix. I see a homeless fella in the center divide.
"Give him your cookies."
What?! I immediately think about how everyone will see this and it makes me look too good. The cookies are hot and it is a hundred degrees. These cookies are not good enough because I have to one up myself and give him whole milk that is cold to go with it. I can't serve the homeless as a woman by myself. With every sentence, he is getting close enough that I can read his sign. It starts with "Not perfect...just" I'm done!
This time I don't ignore it and do it. Window rolls down and I ask," Would you like some cookies?" I start mumbling all the reasons he shouldn't be embarrassed and all the reasons my gift is not good enough, but he interrupts, "I would love some cookies? Are they homemade?" I melt like a fresh, warm...you get it. A surge of blood pumps through my body and my heart rate goes way up. Oh, it is not pride. Don't worry. It is an overwhelming sense of being alive. It is like real, new, fresh, good blood rushed through my system.
"But God is so rich in mercy, and he loved us so very much, that even while we were dead because of our sins, he gave us life when he raised Christ from the dead...He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so that we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." Ephesians 2:4-5&10
I was just breathing and technically alive, but not alive in Christ.
My head and my heart rarely connect with my hands and that hurts to type. I really think God is calling me to stop job hunting, worrying, waiting anxiously and not even vaguely trusting. He is calling me to stop, listen, and obey.
So there is that rush, and then there is more listening. It was the, "Are they homemade?" that I would have missed had I not obeyed in that moment. There are a lot of homeless in Austin. I mean everywhere. Almost every center divide is an opportunity to feel terrible, curious, and check your phone, a/c, anything that avoids eye contact. I have felt it acutely for some reason, but without something to DO about it. Do I get a Costco sized box of waters and granola bars to just keep in the car? How do I serve a need in my daily routine as I make listening part of that routine? That question made it click. Cookies! Homemade Cookies! I know I'm a gifted cook and treasure most the hospitality gift I've been given. He is asking me to get some gals I don't know together, build our friendship on baking, and serving the least in a tangible way. I thought I needed to be a lot more dramatic in using my gifts. Who knew all I needed to do was to get off my ambition train and make some cookies!
Now, who wants to come over and make some cookies!?