I float

"You yourselves are our letter, written on our hearts, known and read by everyone.  You show that you are a letter from Christ, the result of our ministry, written not on tablets of stone but on tablets of the human heart."   ~2 Corinthians 3:2-3

I recently took a miniature road trip north with my friend, Gloria, to a place where you can rent tubes and float down a river.  With a rope binding us for our aquatic journey, we spent four hours creating a day that encompassed all things “summer”.  As I listened to Gloria speak with the same ease that she always does, I realized something new about her; she is really great at inviting others into God’s story for her life.  She loves deeply, she laughs constantly, and she has this contagious, engaging excitement that one can’t help but catch.  I think I’ve always admired that about her, but never really noticed that it was her ability to extend invitations into her life.  

People tend to be surprised when I claim that I’m an introvert.  I’m loud, I’m childish, and I’m expressive, but solitude is where I am most comfortable.  I’ve spent approximately 85% of this summer alone; painting constantly, drinking good wine, reading great books, and praying.  While I have spent most of my days in solitude, the ones I remember best were the few and far between that either extended or received an invitation.  

Yesterday in church, there was an activity during the liturgy that required a volunteer.  It took a grueling couple of minutes before one lone adult volunteered.  Later, the children’s worship required a volunteer; every child’s hand went up.  I can’t help but think that the older we are, the less we want to participate.  We are extended invitations to live out a beautiful story that weaves perfectly into The Story, and yet we decline because it’s easier to watch other people’s stories unfold than to live our own.  

It’s easier to sleep than to run a marathon.

It’s easier to coast through school than to think deeply.

It’s easier to flirt aimlessly than to work at a relationship.

It’s easier to cook for one than to nourish many.

It’s easier to cling to pride than invite others in.

It’s easier to fear than to take a risk.

It’s easier to write a story than to live one out.

I think that is why up until this point, I have spent my summer primarily alone.  But what makes me sad is that those countless hours of comfortable solitude go forgotten; only the moments spent in fellowship resound upon my heart.  I am in no way disregarding solitude; I am not claiming that beauty is absent from stillness.  I just know from experience that too much still solitude can cause a heart to look inward when hearts were really made for living outwardly.  And when you look inward, you miss grand opportunities to let Jesus write His story through you on tablets of the human heart.  

Don’t let life be a bunch of Thursdays strung together.

Go live better stories with other people.

Go be His story.  

Go float on a river.