When I survey the landscape of my life, it’s shocking that fingernails still cling to these hands at all for all the scraping and clawing college required.
It wasn’t the academics that pulled me apart; books and essays and ink pens were friends.
It was scarce tuition money that threw an ever-present shadow of fear over me. Would I have to abandon my friends and beautiful campus before walking across that spring stage? I imagined having to pack up and leave in the night like a tangle-haired mother evading an impossible landlord.
With these kind of shadows creeping round, you can imagine my angst when I felt the Lord calling me to South America. My love for Jesus and the developing world was magnetizing, but paying for it seemed the one hurdle I would never overcome.
I battled the demon of money, feeling certain that God would not withhold a righteous desire because of this one pesky detail. My housemates gathered and prayed over the possibility of a summer in Peru. And slowly, the shadows retreated.
Miraculously, within two weeks of sending support letters, my feeble, unbelieving hands held all the money I needed—to the dollar.
My soul took wing, soaring with gratitude and love—the kind that springs from certainty, conviction, and affirmation. I flew through the pine grove on feet that moved without instruction, praying prayers without words. Tears like rivers now freely ran. My face, a burst of joy; sunshine radiating off gray clouds.
Unrestrained elation. God a breath away.
I inhabited a precious Thin Place.
Note to readers:
This post is part of a contest to describe a Thin Place in exactly 259 words [which, according to WordPress, mine is]. The winner gets a new Kindle! Wish me luck 🙂