At 1:35 in the morning, I find myself wondering what I’m doing here. At what-a-burger, on a lunch break, in pensacola. You couldn’t have convinced me I’d be here four years ago. I thought I’d be in Italy, or a youth minister, or something that would make me feel accomplished. Something that wouldn’t involve eating onion rings and typing away to people who are already asleep. Something that wouldn’t involve listening to teenagers try and impress each other in the booth across from me. Something that wouldn’t involve being needy.
I can see it, at least some of it, through his eyes now. I’ve been here awhile. A lot more than 4 years This mat is getting old. I can’t even piece together the events that led me here anymore, but at the end of the day I blame myself. If someone could rid me of that… but it doesn’t really matter. I can’t move on my own. If it weren’t for my friends, I wouldn’t move at all. Today they’re taking me to him. He’ll be busy, and I don’t expect much.
But now I come to it. My friends have destroyed property, cut in line, and ignored manners. So he talks to me. Forgiven, he says? I expected to hear about my faults. I did not expect to see them banished. This would have been enough. But now he tells me to pick up my pad and walk. Of course, I can no more do that than fly. But for him, I have a feeling the wind would even stop blowing if he asked.
And so I walk.
He sent me and my sin packing, just like I thought. But I never could have guessed we’d be going in opposite directions.
Friends and family, I thank you for the love you display. Old and new, young and seasoned, near and far; many of you have defied convention to move me when paralyzed, to love me when a failure, and to put me in a position to talk with Jesus.
I feel I’m coming to a crossroads, and I want to be open for Him to send me packing where He will. Please pray for me and encourage me. Let me know when I can do the same. May the fruit of God’s spirit grow in you all,
-Lloyd
