Being a Village

It was in the middle of her sitting in front of the book with that paragraph full of sentences and that one little word.

It was at that moment that she decided that it was time to exercise that strong will and claim that she had never seen it before, nor would she ever know what it said.

We sat there, her will meeting mine and after a round or 15 of trying to find a middle ground I gave her the only option she had – to come get me when she had sounded out the word. I picked up the cranky, sleepy baby, slipped her into the ergo and closed the library door and began to pace the hallway with those old plank floors…

Each foot step, each lap, each creak escaping below my feet held a prayer for help. For guidance.

And then, unexpectedly, from my right came the question,

“Can I be your village?”

A little girl fell yesterday, riding circles with her bike and somehow in whatever way, the tires slipped out beneath her. I was coming down the stairs as she was being led up and that sweet little face – trying so hard to be brave.

Trying so hard not to cry.

Maybe that is what breaks my heart the most – the bravery that is worn by the very youngest of them all.

I got her into the kitchen, Zeruiah was distracted, and I found the band-aids and the peroxide to help clean up the bloody wound and even when it hurt and the one tear rolled down, she never. cried. once.

By the end I had her giggling and soon her eyes were clear and the smile was back on and I’ve only met her mama through smiles exchanged in the picking up of her children, but in the small and simple ways of cleaning up scrapes and asking about school I’m being part of a village needed.

You are needed.

You. are. needed.

Wherever you are, you are needed.

And those needed places will probably call you outside any comfort zone you may want to hide behind.

That first step is always the hardest – because sometimes the places you go may seem to be the hardest, may not always seem to be the safest, and in our North American culture, building a life of safety and comfort is the highest end goal.

But for those who love Jesus,

as those who have made the decision to follow Him and to love Him and to give the rest of our lives to Him, that also means to follow Him to the dark places, to love Him through loving those who may resist at first, and to give our lives to Him – whatever that means.  

It means giving up comfort, letting go of safety and letting Him be glorified through your emptied out life.

It is not an easy life we are called to. The comfort we build here will vanish like the mist that we are.

We are called to be radical and to be different and to give of ourselves the way that Jesus gave all for us.

You are needed to be a mama’s voice when a mama can’t be there.

You are called to be a daddy’s voice of wisdom when a father has chosen to walk away.

You are called to be a sister, a brother, a friend, an ear to the ones across the tracks or the ones across the street who are broken and hurting and in desperate need for the Light to give hope in the dark.

You are needed.

You are needed to be a living sacrifice – to offer your whole self to Jesus and to go where He leads – and where He leads may be to the very heart of a child who needs to see Christ’s love for them in your actions and words; and by offering up your life, you may be a saving grace in their own.

Wherever you are, you are needed.

Wherever you are, He can use you.

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