Read all the words I'm writing.
And not when you're watching TV, either.
Not when someone's trying to talk to you.
Not when you're thinking about work.
Or your to-do list.
Or that dumb thing you said earlier.
Listen to me.
Experiencing Catalyst in Atlanta, GA today involved keeping myself from crying at least a dozen times and failing to stop the waterworks at least a dozen more times.
Because I was sitting on a mountain top?
Because Catalyst was a uniquely crafted event designed to manipulate my emotions?
I don't think so.
I think it's because the emphasis was on being present.
On turning off my phone and taking it out of my hand.
On just being fully present in the moment in which I was existing.
It's in those moments that I am aware of the earplugs I wear on a daily basis.
I am aware of the parts of my life that are gray-ed out and asleep.
...of all the hurt and need that exists locally and globally.
...of the fact that God has been patiently and graciously waiting for me to look Him in the eyes and go with Him. How can you not be moved by that? How can you walk out of an experience like that and stay the same?
When I am present, when I am not being distracted by the 1 million things that come my way every minute, God has this way of saying, "...well it's about time."
He makes me look around and I think, "What have I been doing? How did I get here?"
It's in those moments that I wake up and, Lord, can it make my heart hurt, but the process of healing leprosy isn't a pretty process... cutting out the dead, feelingless flesh 'til you hit something alive, 'til the pain lets you know what parts have survived.
Thank goodness something is still alive.