Nomads.

Last spring, I think it was, I mentioned how long ago I told the Lord, when I was in a feeling of being abandoned to him, “Lord, I would live in a tent with you.” Just like Bedouins. Except Bedouins usually don’t love Jesus. And I do. But the tent reference is the same.
And then I told you about how he kind of had me do that but now I wanted to settle more.
Blah blah blah.
You can read about that here.

Well. God, in his infinite irony, seems to be reversing the situation.

Again. Because that’s what irony does.

No, I am not moving again (well, not that I am aware of), I just have the opportunity to take a very “un-settled” trip.

Wolfies, I’m going to Israel this summer.

To minister to the Bedouins.
I KNOW. Isn’t that nuts?!

My brother who I spent last summer with is hooked up with an organization that’s going and he said, “B! We have got to go!”

So we prayed about it. And we are going.

 

Have you ever had a situation where you feel—like—totally inadequate?

Almost to a certain extent like you have nothing relevant to give, or like you can’t see how something could work?

Well, I kind of feel like that.

And it’s for a silly reason, I suppose.
See, one of the things I was told to do was “Get your testimony ready for the trip. You will need to use it.”
Which is fine. I have no problem sharing my testimony. Sharing how Jesus heard me, met me, and pulled me out of many deep waters (Psalm 18). I love telling that story. It’s my best one.

But my issue comes in that I feel as if my testimony is—well—high maintenance. Like, it all started due to First-World problems.

Does that make sense?
I mean…the things I struggled with that I got saved out of…do people who live in tents in the desert struggle with that?
I. Just. Don’t. Know.

Which is why I feel irrelevant.

But if there is anything I know it’s that if I waited to feel adequate or relevant in my “spiritual power” to do something for the Lord, well….nothing would get done. And I would just sit and drink coffee all day and read PG Wodehouse.

And I don’t believe in getting nothing done. And I am choosing to have faith and spite my fears. And inadequacies. And irrelevancies.

I am reminded of Peter when he was going into the Synagogue and he saw the crippled beggar who asked for money, to which Peter replied “Silver and gold I do not have, but what I do have I give you…” (Acts 3:6).

See, maybe I don’t have a testimony that nomads in tents can relate to. But I do have the Creator of the Universe, and I am willing to share him.

Pray for me, you beautiful people. I want to be faithful.