When God asked me to move across the country to a state I had always openly mocked and called “boring” I let out a big belly laugh and went back to sleep.
Okay, Lord. I’ll do the interview. But just to gain experience. I am NOT moving.
I have a fantastic memory. It’s embarrassing how I literally can recount to you the details of moments that happened years ago. But I cannot, for the life of me, remember applying to that job.
But I guess I did. Then I got a phone call with a job offer. And within two weeks of that phone call, I packed up my entire life and shoved it into my Nissan with a small space carved out for my body, and drove 1,000 miles to the next page-turn of my life. It was the biggest leap of faith I have taken and I was unbelievably scared.
I used to think you had to wait for adventure. Like you had to be old enough or tall enough or smart enough, and then it would come. For years I had been, essentially, waiting. Waiting for my turn and waiting for life to happen. But my biggest downfall has not been the fact that I’ve been waiting. My biggest downfall has been what I have filled my days with while I wait: errands.
I love errands. I’m a type-A, everything-needs-a-plan, Post-it-note kind of woman. The satisfaction of crossing things off my list gives me a rush that rivals a sugar overload. I crave it. I often accompany my friends on their errands, just to get the euphoric experience vicariously.
I spent much of my post-grad life doing errands. I filled my days with tasks, accomplished those tasks, and then ignoring the voice in the still of the night that asked, “Does this honestly satisfy you?” I got a lot done in those days, me and my productivity. Errands helped me make sense of my purpose-less job and my empty social calendar. Errands have tangible outcomes and due dates. Errands are predictable and boring.
But I think that we were designed to do so much more than run errands.
Jesus told a lot of stories; He was a great story-teller. But Jesus did not tell stories about errands. He told stories about adventures and celebrations, about new life and following him without a plan, without a list, without a Post-it note.
If you are like so many people, and you think following Jesus is a boring, don’t-color-outside-the-lines kind of life, you are very wrong.
Whenever Jesus tells the story, it is about celebration. It has always been that way.
Jesus once compared the Kingdom of Heaven to a wedding banquet. I don’t know about you, but I love weddings. I love the dancing, the celebration, and the overwhelming feeling of “new” in the air.
“Jesus spoke to them again, saying, ‘The Kingdom of Heaven is like a king who prepared a wedding banquet for his son….’tell those who have been invited that everything is ready. Come to the wedding banquet!’ “ [Matthew 22:1-4]
The Kingdom of Heaven is like a wedding banquet, like a party. There is dancing, there is celebration, there is new in the air.
And if you’re like me, and you decided to run errands for a while, Jesus still wants to throw you a party.
Remember the prodigal son? A boy rejected the norms of the day and the expectations of his family, and he left. He disrespected his father, he went astray, and he messed up. He kept busy running errands, accomplishing tasks. When he finally came to his senses and journeyed home, he expected to be dismissed.
“…But the father said to his servants, ‘Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on him. Let’s have a feast and celebrate! For this son of mine was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ So they began to celebrate.” {Luke 15:22-24]
Jesus told the disciples this story and told them to drop everything and to join his party. He warned that it is dangerous, it is scary, it is sometimes lonely. But he is always there, dancing and laughing, singing and leading.
Jesus always told great stories – He wants to tell you yours.
I want to taste, smell, and touch the Kingdom of Heaven. I want to laugh out loud because of the ridiculous life I lead. I want to follow Jesus to where He goes, not force Him to come get me from my hiding places. I want God to look down at my celebration and be delighted with a daughter who is taking advantage of the abundant life He has given.
There is nothing more sacred than this day. Let’s resolve to celebrate that.
Rachel McGowan is a writer, reader, laugher, dreamer, shower-singer and car-dancer who lives in Dallas, TX and works with hundreds of college students who are figuring out life. She is passionate about women’s issues, the struggles of faith, and finding ways to give a voice to the untold stories that have the potential to change lives. She believes in the healing powers of authenticity, acoustic music, and whole bean coffee. You can follow her on Twitter @_rachchristine or on Facebook at www.facebook.com/whistlingrachel.
*Photo credit: midnights garden
