Seasons.

The sweet summer sun is coming to an end. The days are getting shorter and the nights are getting longer. The markets are filled with nervous mothers gripping school lists for their baby's first day of kindergarten, or their baby's first day of college. There's a season for everything under the sun, and this is mine.

Late-spring of this year, I entered my eighteenth year of being alive. I've loved, and I've made mistakes. I've played with dolls and spent all day outside getting dirty until the sun fell. I've watched dear family members pass, and I've seen new lives enter this world. I've seen the darkness of a third-world country, and I've felt the devastation from it in my heart. I've hurt myself, and let other people hurt me. I've tasted and seen the sweetest of loves, and I've learned to find the calm in the midst of the chaos. I don't know how I got from five to here or even from fifteen to here, but I know that life is precious. I also know that as I sit here, moving the boxes that surround me, three months further away from high school, and less than one month closer to college, I feel as if I'm not ready. My throat closes up at the thought of moving 800 miles away from my family and friends, but then I sit back and think, "What would life be like if we all waited to do something great until we thought we were ready?" We would cease to accomplish anything. We would settle back into our comfortable lives and watch each day and each opportunity pass us by. Because alone as flesh and blood, we are never ready. Deep down there is always that crippling fear that whispers to us that we are not good enough. That we'll never succeed. That we are fine with the safe life we are living, but the plan that God intends for our vapor of a life is the complete opposite.
He designed us be radical servants for Him.
Radical? Yes, because our God is a radical God. rad·i·cal ˈradikəl/ : complete, profound, major, comprehensive. 


Picture this:

Today is the day that you compete in the 100-meter freestyle in the Olympics. You've spent much of your life in preparation for this. You've invested time, money, and hard work to get where you're at. You've been instructed and coached. The moment is almost here. You curl your toes over the edge and stare down at the deep waters that encompass the region below you. The judge blows his whistle, this is it. You take a deep breath, plug your nose, grab your floaty, and cannon ball in. The judge sits there clearly confused knowing how equipped and capable you are, but yet he watches in disappointment while you doggie paddle and safely hold your breath while trying not to make direct eye contact with him.
The race takes you 10x's longer. But you finally finish. You shakily climb up out of the waters that you were called into, you stand up, and throw your arms up in the air, as if to say, "I'm finished."
You stand before the judge and wonder if you swam the race marked out for you in the best way possible.
This is the picture I see when I think of "Christians." We rely so much more on religion than we do a relationship. A true, intimate relationship with Jesus. We are so willing to give time, money, and hard work to the Church, but the second that Jesus calls us for something that seems uncomfortable we freeze. We spend years in the Word equipping ourselves with the love of God, but yet we fail to accept when we are being called for something greater. We take the safe route our whole lives. Eventually we reach the end. Yes, we loved Jesus, went to Church on Sunday morning's, maybe even taught bible school, and occasionally read our bibles, but did we really live for Jesus? Was He the centerpiece in every aspect of our lives? When strangers spent time around us, did they hear "I believe in Jesus" less and truly feel/see it more? When we come to the end and stand up in front of the almighty judge while we throw our arms up in praise to Him, what will He see when He looks at our life?

I challenge you to take a step back and evaluate your existence. Every part of it. God created you to be exactly who you are suppose to be. With His help, you will succeed. You are worthy. You can lead a radical and uncomfortable life. Life is scary, but its only scary when you're lonely, and though you may be lonely you need to realize that God has never left you alone. Once that sinks in you'll be able to walk into the unknown with no crippling fear behind you, only a precious light in front of you.

So, while the seasons change, people move on, and so do you, understand this; you are ready.
And you were made for such a time as this.


Sincerely,
Kenna