Jesus in Jeans

So, I jumped on this peace train with nothing more than a leap of faith, a faith in God that I did not question. A faith that was so very strong. But how would you feel if you jumped onto a train where the destination was unknown, as are the stops along the way? You could not jump off because, if you tried, you’d get pulled back on, and by trying, you would be walking away from God’s call. To further explain, it should be known that I am a person of action. I will make a goal, formulate a plan, execute the plan, and, normally, be very successful in the process and the end result. Clearly, I have God to thank for that. So here I was, a girl with a calling, who would like to make a plan and get this show on the road. Instead, I was on the express train to Leap-of-Faithville, without a map or a tour guide, who had traveled this path before.

While on this train, I tried very hard to maintain my tutoring business, a family, and millions of thoughts that came into my head on a daily basis. When I felt like I wanted to jump off and rebel, I was only drawn more to my computer to write a story that I was unsure of the ending or the outcome. Would these words ever be read by anyone? This train ride was a test of mental strength and patience. However, soon I would have to admit that the positive outcomes that had come with this energy were worth every bit of the frustration.

I was left to wonder, Am I an everyday Christian? Didn’t everyone help others with a minute’s notice? Didn’t everyone feel another’s pain the way I did? Didn’t we all have a special relationship with God that was unique to us? Didn’t everybody try to lead a Christ-like life? This was all so confusing for me, because in my home it was the norm. It was what I have grown up with my entire life, how I was raised as a child and as an adult. The same “norm” existed in my house now. My husband is one of the kindest souls I have ever encountered in my whole life. So great, “Yeah!” to me and this peace train existence that I am living. The reality was, while it was an honor, it was also becoming a pain in the caboose.

I was beginning to realize that not everyone saw the world as I did. I was so very happy to be an agent of change, but I would have loved a little direction and I was growing impatient as I waited, for this was not my style. I loved a challenge and I would sprint to it. I was not even jogging right now. So here I was, a girl with “fashion first” as a motto in new running sneakers, a great running outfit, at the starting line, and the gun was not sounding. How frustrating! All I wanted to do was to start this race. Really, how patient could one girl be?

As I wrote and wrote and wrote, my children were aware of this new obsession. My son said to me the other day, “So, Ma, you writing your chirrch (he was six and hadn’t mastered “r” controlled words yet) book again? Is it about God? Are you going to give it to a priest? Is it a chapter book? Does it have a cover?” His energy was almost as contagious as mine. He then upped the ante and asked if I could read it to him. So, he sat on my lap and I read the prior day’s chapter, which mentioned him. He asked me, “How is this about God?” I explained how God was part of our everyday actions. I recalled how we had said a prayer in the doctor’s office to help us. He hesitated and said, “Oh, I get it. So, it’s like when we talk to God in our heads.” At that very moment, I realized that if the sole (or soul) purpose of my writing was to bring an awareness of God’s constant presence to a child, then, “Amen”. At the same time though, there was a little part of me that would love to sit on the Oprah Winfrey show and be interviewed about it. A girl can dream.