dream big, child

When I was a little girl I aspired to be a trash woman. That’s all I talked about. The very thought of picking up garbage on the side of the road sent a wave of excitement over my bones. I fondly remember the day I verbalized this dream of my heart to my mother. Can you image as a parent hearing that your child’s big dream was nothing more than a garbage lady? She responded as any parent would, “are you sure you don’t want to be a doctor? A nurse? A veterinarian?” As if something like trash collecting was looked at as socially unacceptable. My response was the same as it had been, “that’s what I want to do!”

As I matured into a respectable young lady I realized how peculiar that dream of my heart was. It was nothing short of God’s hand upon me. I see now that the trash was not merely the soda cans and candy bar wrappers that blanketed the streets. The trash represented all the socially forgotten, abandoned, worthless, and rejected people that fill our street corners everyday. God has been giving me a heart of compassion from childhood, and as the days have progressed I see how he has been piercing my heart for these ones.

Romans 8:15
"For you did not recieve a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you recieved the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, 'Abba, Father.'"

If there is a dream within your heart, big or small don't allow fear to determine your outcome, just go for it!

blessed are the flexible

Sitting in a meeting very aware and yet distracted by my surroundings, a friend next to me didn't make the situation any easier. She began making jokes and cracks that I couldn't help but not respond to. She reached for her pen and began  writing in my notebook, I will never forget this...blessed are the flexible. for when they are bent they do not break... 

that thought has been in my mind the last couple of days the severity of being stretched. Even when a muscle in the body is pulled the wrong way it begins to cry out...ouch! the pain, the pain!... the tension seems to be to much. Ironicly enough I walking around with a pulled, stretched calve muscle. The question I would ask myself is why didn't I stretch? Was I prepared for the pulling that would take place? Never did I know a pain like this, if only I would have stretched before, now I find myself being stretch...ouch! the pain, the pain!... So in the words of my friend I say, BLESSED ARE THE FLEXIBLE. FOR WHEN THEY ARE BENT, PULLED, PUSHED, THEY WILL NOT BREAK

Matthew chapter five...