I just do.
My thumb swipes left then right across glass, taps "Reminders."
Check, check. Check. I scroll for the next thing.
These are days unbelievably full in this house. Unbelievably full. With not one, but four young minds straining over plans for the honor of God in Houston next week, (hours a day) there is never a dull moment.
Or a relaxed one.
But we're honored to serve... Honored to go to war with darkness, as indeed such it will be.
But I glance around my room, across my desktop, through my inbox(es) for the next most pressing emergency. And I suddenly become aware of an emergency of a different character altogether.
It's this little heart of mine. Something's not quite right...
I don't brush past a call anymore. I can't tolerate being disconnected from heaven any more... It's the worst torture. I glance at my watch. Almost noon.
I pocket my iPhone, tell my mother I'm going out for a while, take my little sister by the shoulders and ask her if she's prayed today...
And I go out.
And what I learn on the snow-covered hillside I expect to take with me all through life.
- - - - -
To forget my calling.
To forget, to neglect, to lose under a pile of other stuff... same thing.
Because the moment I forget my calling, I lose track of God's claim on my life.
And make no mistake, God's claim is the purpose for living. Lose sight of it, and direction is gone, and meaning is gone. I'm at the mercy of my passions and whims--
At the mercy of my merciless enemies.
But when the claim of God is understood, and the calling of God embraced, then I am alive. And I can fold my arms and stare massive losses in the face with perfect calm.
Because my side wins either way...
All at once, I'm ready to work again.
I've been up the mountain, through the valley, across the creek... on my way to Zion.