I was looking through my old journals and read a post from March of this year. I'd been in
This is what I'd written in March:
I know you hold the world in your hands and that you have determined the times and places where we should live. I just don't understand why I have this life and they have that one. Why have you blessed me so tremendously? These thoughts are tearing me up. How would you have me spend my time on this earth? I want to help and to bless those who need help. "I know I'm filled to be emptied again / this seed I've received I will sow" -- Desert Song, Hillsong.
The only answer I can think of for why I'm here, with this life, and not there, with that life, is because I'm meant to help in some way, to show the love I've been shown, to give what I've been given. And this doesn't necessarily mean I'm supposed to go to other countries.
My prayer is that I can take every blessing I've received and pour it back out as an offering to the Lord that really counts, that really moves his heart. And people are on his heart. The oppressed and brokenhearted are on his heart.
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