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The In-Between

September 8, 2004

I feel like I’ve been in-between ever since I graduated from Taylor. In-between TU and working for Youthworks. In-between working for Youthworks and going back home. In-between living at home and Mosaic. In-between Mosaic and starting Mosaic in Nashville. My life in the last year or so has been all kinds of transition. Stability, as far as community goes, has been here and there. I’ve not known quite what to do with myself in the in-between, how to settle my soul. Things have been rocky in there since the beginning of my senior year at Taylor. But I’ve had a night that I’m sure many people have had from time to time. I’m in the process of cleaning out my closet, throwing all kinds of stuff away, minimizing the amount of junk that has collected over 23 years of life. I have a certain box, and all that is in it are notes and cards. Tons of notes and cards. I can’t throw them away. They are a part of me. They are my story. Some go back all the way to jr. high. I read through high school notes, college notes, notes from brothers and sisters in Christ, and notes from those who did not and still don’t know God. I’m a critic. I think through everything. I don’t always come to right conclusions, but I break things down to the roots. I am MY worst critic. I break myself down to the roots, and I always tend to see how far from pretty they are. I think through the events and people in my life and how they effected me and how I effected them, whether joys or pains, whether I have caused the hurt or been the cause of hurt, whether the source of joy for someone or given joy by a friend. Tonight, in my reading, I was reminded of who I have been, and who I still am and can be. Jesus tells me who I am by his life and in his word to me. Paul reminds me of who Jesus said I am and how I was created to live. My friends, people who have touched my life and whom my life has touched, validate that Christ indeed dwells in me even when I refuse to recognize him in myself. There are some days when I think that there is no good in me, when all my roots are showing, and yet somehow others can see that the good is there. The see the life above the ugly roots that would not be there had the roots not been planted in good soil. I see the good and the potential in so many people, I just never expect that they do the same in return, for me no less. I’m re-energized tonight at the thought of being in the in-between. I’m growing, and there is much to be done. There are many much needed conversation to have with Papa. And I’m finally feeling like talking.

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