I know. You'd think that after a 30 Day Writing Challenge I wouldn't go silent for almost two weeks. But see.
Well. Sometimes. I don't know. Sometimes quiet is good.
Plus, see I was getting ready to leave.
And then I was here, in Potsdam.
And now I'm headed back down south.
But I couldn't leave without saying this first. Really. To all of you. To everyone I know and everyone I don't know, you too.
I know the best people in the world. I do. You think you know the best people in the world and you probably do too. That's the way it's supposed to be. Really. God designed us to need each other and so when we've spent all this time needing each other, we wake up and find one day that instead of being tired of needing and being needed, we're actually the most grateful for these living breathing organisms we call family.
All I know is this: from the moment I got off the plane almost a week ago until now, where I head south to a wedding and then a bit north to get back on the plane, I have been around you and I'm not tired of you yet.
You chased me down, tracked me down, followed me around, called me, facebooked me (when did that become a verb?), emailed me and called me. You pursued me and at any moment I could turn around and there you were. Ready with a hug, a smile, a tear, a question, an answer, love, joy, companionship. That's who you are to me. The pursuers of my heart.
On Monday I sat across from a dear friend and she talked about a concept we have in the church. We call it backsliding and we think of it as a person growing distant from God. But, she says, that's not what it is at all. The goodness of God is so good that at any moment any one of us in any stage of sin or spirit can turn around and He is immediately behind us, pursuing us. Relentlessly.
I love that. I think about that all week. The wild, running Father. Not one who can't catch us no matter how hard we try to flee, but one who is never too far from us, never too distant, never tired or giving up.
And so I say to you all, you family of my heart, thank you for pursuing. Not just me. But thank you for pursuing the people of your heart. The young ones here, the ones who are far from the gospel and so deep in their sin that they cannot even name it as sin. Thank you for pursuing the broken ones, the ones who cannot lift up their heads. Thank you for pursuing the hard ones, the ones who stand with their arms crossed in belligerence. Thank you for pursuing me, the broken, the doubting, the rebellious, the hard, the scarred, the sinning, ungrateful.
I am a life that was saved.