Sometimes we experience a moment, or simply an evening, and so much is gained in our perspective. We realize that the moments we've been living for, the ways we've chosen to spend our time, and even the accomplishments we've become so proud of are really not all that important after all. ...at least they're not what they seem in comparison to something far greater in importance.
Lately, I've been awakening begrudgingly each morning, my body still adjusting to the new days. My steps are sluggish and my thoughts anything but God glorifying. I selfishly wish to sleep longer. I complain about the snow falling. The temperatures still dropping. I tell myself I just want a day to my self without demands or to-do lists to accomplish. Believing that somehow my days are so much harder than others.
It's really a case of self-centeredness; a plague of a bad attitude.
But then, I spend a short 24-hours with a room full of 18-20-something women and I'm met with reality. I see that it's not about me at all. And all my moaning and groaning is foolish in perspective.
I felt overwhelmed by all the new faces at first. My introverted personality felt stretched just a little bit further as each minute passed. And then, the silence. The distinct moment when it was ever so evident, that we, staff, students, and volunteers, we were not strangers or defined by our friend groups, we were, and are all sisters.
We were not alone in our struggles. And age and experiences did not separate us from pains so deep they felt impossible to share. The facade we normally put on for each other as we pass in our everyday lives rarely revealed our true selves. How often did we feel alone in our struggles, maybe isolated, possibly even abandoned, and unworthy, and unforgivable?
When in reality we are sisters, never alone, more similar than we would ever believe.
So much was gained in my perspective this weekend.
We live in a world that doesn't make a lot of sense most days. My complaints and groans feel so petty in perspective to the pains of my sisters. My heart breaks for the burdens they have walked with, believing they are alone on their journeys. And my heart beats wild for the healing, redeeming, love each and every one of them experienced this weekend. The realization that they are no longer alone. That they are a part of a sisterhood. That they serve a Lord who will never leave them or abandon them. A Lord who loves with no bounds. Whose anger is gone forever.
As I awake this morning, what praise for the new snowfall that greets us. What praise for another day we can feel and experience the chill of winter. What praise for a schedule packed with meeting with these young women. It's all a part of something much greater than I, what praise!