I found this in my last blog, and it's the best answer to the question "Why did you move to Portland, Amanda?" If I had known better I would have come with this tattooed on my forearm for every time I'd be asked. Not that I mind telling... I actually love telling the story because of God's voice and fingerprints and love all over it. But it means I'm talking for at least ten minutes and not everyone's ten-minutes-interested.
Typing with long nails is a challenge.
Below, when I talk about things being broken, I'm talking about things that kept me stuck and hurting. So it was(is) a good kind of breaking.
Friday, July 21, 2006
I think I need to be in a place where I'm able to see God's hand. If I keep myself stagnate and sedentary, where will I have opportunity to see a faithful God? I keep getting this phrase: I'm not letting Him save me. Not the salvation from hell kinda save, but the rescuing kinda save..... I'm not sure if that idea is full proof, but it captures the sentiment I'm going for. If I never move, how will he be evident?
I feel like things continue to be broken in my life.... things that are keeping me in this awful, dark, and depressing place..... maybe it's the same thing that God continues to break over and over again..... either which way it feels like it ushers in a new kind of air. The kind that I'm supposed to be breathing.
I love that-- the kind of air I'm supposed to be breathing. I was right. And now I'm alive :)
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