I was more than content to attend IF:Local with women from my community.
But the door kept opening, the nudges kept coming, and they have wheelchairs at the airport.
So here I go.
On Friday I will be
hopping limping onto a plane with no expectations. Hands held open, face to the sky, ready for whatever God has for me in this space.
And as I continue to redefine what it means to invest in my local community, my heart races at the thought of what this weekend will bring. Especially since last year was better than I dared hope for.
As someone who doesn’t have life even the tiniest bit figured out, I do know this: When I release my plans and stop holding tight to what I think I have control over, God shows up.
I desperately want to have it all figured out. I wish I could look into the future and see what happens, but anything past this right-now moment is foggy at best.
So I focus my eyes on the tiny flicker of light right in front of me and take the next step. One step. One tiny little step. And God meets me there.
Friday is another one of those tiny little steps. Into a wheelchair, onto a plane, I’m stepping into the future with a little bit of pain medicine and a whole lot of faith.