Occasionally I get sucked into the idea that it’s MY job to SAVE THE WORLD.
When I get tired, everything is magnified. Add a starting point of codependency and a steady stream of bad news, and it makes for a pretty un-fun evening around this house.
Selfishly, I’ll look longingly back at the days when I kept my head buried comfortably in the sand. (Though even then I’d still lie awake pondering my first-world problems.)
But God in His great mercy and purpose broke my rose-colored glasses and replaced them with the perfect prescription lenses to show me clearly what’s going on around me and around the world.
And even though I only see the tiniest fraction of the depth of human depravity safely from the other side of a screen, my bleeding heart is always on call for a fresh hemorrhage.
And of course it gets all over Brad. (Whatever. He signed up for this when he married me. With his Georgia football and political obsessions, I say we’re about even.)
When Boko Haram kidnapped those precious school girls a couple years ago, I was wrecked with helplessness. Since I couldn’t grab a machine gun, fly over there and chase them down, Brad suggested that I pray.
And I distinctly remember telling him that wasn’t enough, that it was a Christian cop out to get out of doing something hard.
While I said that in one of those exhausted moments of unchecked codependency (mostly likely on a Sunday night), I know there’s a strand of truth in there. The power of prayer and our command to do it constantly cannot be denied. (And maybe if I did it more, it would feel more like the mighty weapon against darkness that it is.)
But I’m pretty sure there’s more to it than that. Our hands should not stay primly folded in quiet prayer, but should be covered in the dirt that comes with the work of bringing the kingdom.
I remember a certain conversation I had with my mom when I was in college. I went to Samford University in Birmingham, Alabama and can easily call those some of the best years of my life.
It was before cell phones, so when I wanted to check in, I actually had to sit in my room with a landline. I fell into a rhythm of calling Mom every Wednesday before dinner and every Sunday evening.
Dad would hop on the phone and ask his standard three questions (How are your grades? How is your car running? Are you dating anybody?). Then Mom and I would cover everything else.
I remember during one conversation, I was telling her about one of my latest adventures which I know was a drastic departure from how she did college. She was starting to make a suggestion toward something else that made more sense to her, caught herself and then said one of the most important things a parent could ever tell their child:
Oh, you know what? Just do your own thing.
The release and permission of that simple statement cannot be overstated, especially for someone who needed her parents’ approval as much as I did.
I heard a speaker a few years ago who lived by the mantra: Do your thing with great love right now. Over thirty minutes, she broke it down for us.
Do your thing. (Not somebody else’s thing. YOUR thing.)
With great love. (If you can’t do it with great love, don’t do it.)
Right now. (Our time on earth is short and there’s no time to waste.)
As I was wrestling through the pressure of my Superwoman complex the other night, I was reminded of the first piece of that statement: Do YOUR thing.
I care about (read: worry about) everything. Every crisis is my responsibility and I feel a desperate and pointless pull toward helping. Somehow. Inevitably I end up overwhelmed by the weight of it all and end up doing nothing. Except maybe feeling guilty for the easy life I’ve been blessed with.
Then I started thinking about friends I know who are really making impacts on the world, really bringing the kingdom.
Julie Columbino’s heart belongs to Haiti. She launched Rebuild Globally, starting a business down there that creates jobs for those in the struggling country.
Christina Walker was executive director of Samaritan Village, a ministry that provides housing, counseling, healing and job training for women coming out of prostitution.
Heather Case created One Purse, a ministry that raises support for the battle against sex trafficking.
Marnie Waldrop took her own experience as a military wife and began the Camaraderie Foundation, which supports vets coming home from deployment as they re-acclimate to life stateside.
And these are friends of mine, people just like me, who followed their God-given heartbeat for a certain issue and are literally changing lives.
Other regular people turned hero for the kingdom include:
Jeremy Courtney with Preemptive Love who is on the ground with his family in Iraq, sometimes within miles of ISIS terrorists, up to his neck in refugee relief.
Latasha Morrison with Be the Bridge has taken on the ongoing issue of race relations, traveling and educating all who will listen on racial reconciliation.
Carol Everett was a former owner of multiple abortion clinics and now speaks out against the deception and strategy used to profit from the killing of the unborn, replacing it with the truth behind the very lucrative business of abortion, most recently at a fundraise for Choices Women’s Clinic.
These are just the ones I can think of off the top of my head. Others are investing in causes like sex/pornography addiction, alcohol/drug addiction, education reform, homelessness, poverty, hunger, adoption/foster care, AIDS, cancer, women’s rights and domestic/child abuse.
They don’t all start LLCs or non-profits. They don’t all have websites. Some volunteer to offer time and manpower, run marathons to raise funds and awareness, host events to educate and recruit.
Each one of these people is doing their thing with great love right now.
But what stands out to me the most is, they’re doing THEIR THING. Singular.
They’re not wringing their hands in a paralyzed freak out about the world falling apart. They have latched on to that ONE THING that God burned into their DNA when they were formed in the womb. And they are taking some serious ground for the kingdom.
I am not so focused and intentional. The winds of the issues of the moment blow me this way and that like a sailboat with a broken compass, sails flapping in breeze, going nowhere fast.
And somewhere in gusts I hear my mom’s words in a larger Voice saying,
My child, do your own thing.
But what IS my thing?
EVERYTHING moves me. As soon as I learn about any given cause, my heart panics and I run to that camp ready to pour myself out for that issue. That is, until another issue makes the news.
Should we keep our hearts soft and our eyes open to all the pain around us? Absolutely.
But should we feel responsible to every area of brokenness that crosses our path? I don’t think so. That seems like a surefire way to drown in hopelessness and get nowhere fast.
Just as God has chosen my eye color, numbered the days of my life and given me specific abilities, I believe He has selected one thing, MY thing for me to do, at least for this season.
Do I send my money in all directions and support my friends’ causes every chance I get? Of course.
But I must learn to be still and quiet. And listen. For my heartbeat. The rhythm that God placed in my soul for the purpose He has for my life.
Only then will I be able to harness that Spirit wind and sail with power and direction.
Only then will I be able to make not MY mark, but GOD’S mark on my little chunk of earth.
Because Jeremy’s got ISIS, Heather and Christina have sex trafficking, Latasha has race relations, Julie’s got Haiti. So I don’t have to waste energy worrying about those areas.
Still praying for their efforts and supporting them every chance I get, I am free to find MY thing and focus in on it like a laser cutting through the steel wall around Satan’s territory.
God delegates. He gives specific assignments to specific individuals. He never wastes a gift or an experience.
And if we all just did OUR thing with great love right now, with focus and intent, the darkness would not be able to withstand such a forceful advance on so many fronts.
Satan isn’t the only one who uses coordinated attacks.
I have begun to quiet my mind and listen for my heartbeat, praying for God to show me what battle He wants me to fight.
And I will continue to support and encourage those around me who are fighting the good fight.
And I will pray for courage like theirs.
To do my own thing.
