Into The Great Unknown

Tomorrow morning I'm preaching at God Speed Biker Ministries.

I've known this was happening for over two months now.  I started working on a message and God said "No,", started another one and He said, "Not that one," started yet another and He said, "Give it rest.".

My girl Terrie first suggested the woman at the well, I studied it it just didn't speak to me and I ended up down a rabbit hole studying the whole racial issue that took place with the Samaritans.  I called her today, because she gives great advice, even if I don't take it, while in a state of panic and she said, "Read Ruth."  I read Ruth, nothing.

I went back over the notes I had laid out, nothing.

I've spent half the day crying, completely upset because I feel like I've got nothing.

I've heard more than one person over the last few months say, "I didn't prepare on purpose."  This sparked something in me and I thought to myself, that would be so nice, but I know I like to talk and I don't want to get off subject when delivering a message.

Everyone I've talked to has said, "You're gonna do great."

How am I gonna do great when I don't know what the heck I'm gonna talk about?

He kept asking me the same question over and over again, "Do you trust me?".

I'm sure He's laughed at me a few times as well, because I'm totally freaking out.

The bed is cluttered with notes, three bibles sitting open, one I can't see to read any longer, which broke my heart and made me cry all over again.  I have three pairs of glasses can't find a single pair, but I did locate the magnifying glass.
This has never happened before, not ever.

Anyone that knows me knows I always have something to say.

I've given testimony more times than I've kept count of, but never a sermon.

This is a big deal to me!  I just got ordained!  I wanted to bring fire!

Then we come to love.  I know love, Phil has been teaching me love for the last six years, God has been loving me my entire life, my word for this year is romance.

In all actuality I'm writing right now for therapy, to calm down, to gather my thoughts all in one place, to do what comes natural to me, talk about it.

At the end of the last meltdown, I feel sure God chuckled at me and said, "the letters."  I was planning to take the letters from the start but because He kept changing what I would talk about I began to dismiss the letters.

What letters you ask?

Eight years of letters.

It was surreal as I was pulling them out of the drawer I keep them in, seeing the different addresses I lived at, having flashes of memory when I filled out an envelope, remembering a date on another, holding them, seeing them, all of them, the letters.

I wrote my husband letters all the time, for eight years.  I kept them too, those are my letters, those are minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years of my life.  They are a representation of my devotion, my friendship, pouring into my husband from a desolate place.

Now we are getting somewhere and I'm coming back to the word pour, acronym pure outrageous unbelievable romance.  Okay, I have the definitions for pour, you have to be full of something to pour out from.

I feel something happening here, in the final hours, when time is running out and quickly.

Okay, so I've got the letters, I've got the word pour, I've got some scripture, I've got to trust Him!

I've got a couple of other pieces, some thoughts in my head, words to a song that keeps playing over and over again and thank you Jesus, I think I've got it!

I've got to go!

Thanks for helping me!