in the fury of the moment

it's a small, small world

Hello friends, it has been a while. It seems that I have done a silly thing and gotten all wrapped up in the "doing" of life and not so much writing about the "doing" ... but I have missed writing, and I have missed you folks.

Tonight, as I ran toward the sunset and watched the blues turns to pinks and purples and eventually near-black, I realized: I am small. My world is small. This is nothing new ... it has always been the case. But lately (since my move down to North Carolina), it just seems to be more obviously so. And I'm not completely sure that it's a bad thing.

I wake up in the morning, I read my Bible, I go to work, I come home, I walk (or occasionally run with) my dogs, I shower, I read, I go to sleep ... the next day I do the same thing again. My weekends are fairly small as well: I either go to church and play piano, or meet up for Bible study with some folks from church, or go to the park with my dogs.

There are no big moments, no grand entrances or major dilemmas ... I have been staying close to the Lord, and there haven't been many distractions to pull me away from Him. In some ways my life almost seems too easy, and easy is not something to which I am accustomed. This smallness has been refreshing, and it seems that it was just what I needed for a time. But yesterday my contentment in this smallness ended when I heard words of wisdom coming from a 4 year-old in the backseat of my car.

Miss Krista, how come they don't know us and we don't know them?

We were driving along the expressway, and there were cars all around us. I was singing along with some song on the radio (probably something about how great our God is), enveloped in my own little world, happily sipping my recently acquired white cafe mocha and smiling at the two little pudgy faces in the backseat. Avery asked this question, and I turned the radio off and just sat speechless and tried to come up with an answer. And I couldn't. So I asked more questions, hoping to change the subject.

Who are you talking about, the people in the other cars? What do you mean, "they don't know us?"

I was stumped by the thoughts of a little boy who finds nothing more hilarious than dropping his pants in the backyard and relieving himself next to the swingset. Even now, I can't answer his question with any real authority. There are people all around me, all the time, every day ... I don't know them, and they don't know me. And why is that? Is it really because I just happen to live in a different place and be heading in a different direction at a different time? Or is it because I am so content to stay in my small world, and less willing to step out, enter into their worlds, and invite them into mine?

Honestly, the opportunities to step out of my world right now don't seem to be too plentiful. I am still getting to know things ... getting to know the area, and people, and ways to serve ... but really, that all sounds like a whole bunch of excuses. And "ways to serve" -- what's that? As if living and breathing and walking and talking and loving AREN'T ways to serve. The question is "serve who?" Serve me? Or serve the One who gave me this life (whether it be big or small) in the first place????

I'm sure the beauty of the sunset tonight was enjoyed by many other people in this world that is so much bigger than me and my cafe mocha ... and I'm sensing that it's time for my world to start growing a bit.

God looks down on all the world; and for every one of the millions who have never crowned Him King, Christ wore the crown of thorns. What do we count these millions worth? Do we count them worth the rearrangement of our day, that we may have more time to pray? Do we count them worth the laying down of a single ambition, the loosening of our hold on a single child or friend? Do we count them worth the yielding up of anything we care for very much? Let us be still for a moment and think. Christ counted souls worth Calvary. What do we count them worth?
-- Amy Carmichael

posted by Krista @ 10:02 PM