I’ve sat here and stared at this computer screen for hours now; idling drumming my fingers against the base of the laptop, with lazy eyes that want to sleep but an overly-active brain that won’t rest until the words inside are left on paper.  Or keyboard.  Whichever. Sleep hasn’t been easy to come by lately, and coming by rest has been even more of a rare occurrence. It seems that when He wants something done, He’s pretty persistent.

About a year and a few months ago I attended my church’s annual women’s conference, during which there was an amazing time of prophetic prayer and ministry.  Each woman at the conference received a card that held a prophetic word which had been carefully prayed over and put to paper. My card contained a word that confirmed my calling. The heavens didn’t open up, the trumpets didn’t sound, and the angels didn’t sing. In fact, the tears that fell down my face after reading the confirmation of something my heart had been longing for didn’t fall happily.

Scared.to.death.

So I tucked this tangible piece of God in to my conference notebook, and quickly hid it away on my bookshelf at the conclusion of the weekend where I haven’t looked at it since, or, at least until this year’s conference.

Here I am with a family I love, a husband I adore, a job that I enjoy with co-workers whom I actually like getting to spend time with – blessed beyond measure, and completely content in it. But that’s the thing.  He’s not calling me to be content. My husband will tell you how much of a homebody I am. I would much prefer sitting at home doing the dishes and watching movies with my kiddos than I would going putt-putt golfing, or paying way too much to go to a theatre. I suppose I’ve always been that way, really. I’ve certainly never been one for change in my personal life. With so much constant change at work, I’m totally cool with things at home staying the same for as long as possible (if I have anything to do with it, which as of recently I’m learning that I don’t.) Some days my prayers consist more of “God, please stop trying to shake me out of my comfort zone.  I’m totally ok with things the way they are,” than anything else. Looking back at what I just wrote makes me feel a bit selfish, actually.

But alas, my crazily fantastical God has something else in store for me. My spirit is jumping with excitement, while my soul is mourning and my body is trying to sleep. This is going to be a marvelous and miraculous journey. Marvelous because it’s a total God thing, and miraculous because I’m fairly certain that people are going to freak at the shedding of this skin I’ve been wearing for so long. So get ready everyone. Things are about to get a little messy.