dsc_3051Luke 14:15-24 tells a story about a guy who is hosting a huge party. It’s a big deal. Lots of food and guests. Seems to me the host was sparing no expense. Dinner is ready and the host tells his servant to invite everyone. Free food and fun awaits but one by one the invited guests make excuses and decline the invite. Some have to take care of their farm, others had to tend to the new farm animals while another is a newlywed and is too busy. Not quite sure why those excuses work because everyone has time for a meal. The host gets mad and tells the servant to go into the highways and alleys to get the “poor, crippled, blind, and lame.” Servants obeyed and reported to the host that we got a bunch of people but there is still room. Host commands them to go to the country roads and lanes, to continue bringing them until his house is filled.

I was in church one weeknight in 2010 and they were having a conference. A man was preaching. Songs were being sung. Prayers offered but I was in a different place emotionally. At the time, I was serving in ministry but felt my service was noise to God. It had no heart, no purpose. I was just going throughout the motions of what was expected of me. I was very troubled by how insincere my service had become. This was not it. In the church service, I am in my own head, thinking, plotting about how to slip out unnoticed when I see this lady hand me a piece of broken pottery and a sharpie. Confused I look at the stage, look down at the misshapen piece of pottery and know that I am caught not paying attention. I catch the preacher say, “Write on the pottery what you feel is your destiny.” Stunned I sit bewildered wondering if he had given the answer in his speech and I missed it whining about my present situation. Then, it hit me, tears turned into sobs and I began to write, “Love the Lost. Love the broken. Love the forgotten. Break my heart for what breaks yours.” I am embarrassingly emotional at this point to where my weeping is noticeable but I can’t stop. I physically am weeping at the realization of all I wanted to do. I loved broken people. I was broken. I am continually breaking that I might be remade and undone again by the potter. I wanted to love people in the middle of their brokenness. I wanted to tell them how love can rebuild anything. I wanted to love people like he does. I realized my destiny, why I was breathing and all I could do was cry.

I have wandered a lot since that moment. I have kept the piece of pottery and never forgotten those words but continually have not actively, prayerfully pursued my destiny. Not until now. Now, I am considering those words. I am abandoned to that call and eagerly pursuing an opportunity to love people in the midst of their brokenness. I feel called to the highways, alleys and country roads. I want to see them face to face and speak love.

Recently, God told me to GO. To avail my heart to step beyond my comfortable and into His unknown. I have decided to GO as a “First Responder” with the IrisGlobal team to any disaster area where they have hubs. I have to be ready to go for a two week period to any country where there is an urgent need. Mozambique, Kenya, Indonesia…wherever. I have no idea when or how much this will cost me both financially or emotionally BUT GOD is beckoning. I want to go. That weeping girl in that church service burns to GO. Pray for me. I will pray for you. Pray for the people I will be serving. Pray that we all love deeper and longer and more fervently so that brokenness finds its Healer.

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