perhaps this is the moment

I was an obnoxious little girl, actually, when I think back on it. I really, really wanted to be a famous broadway star, and so every Friday night, when my family went to Cantina, the Mexican place where I always ordered a cheeseburger, I would walk around from table to table and hand out my autograph. I was about 8 or 9 years old. And I just wanted people to know that they really needed to prepare for me...that big moment in the near future, when that piece of paper with my name scribbled on it would mean something great; that moment for which I was created.

And we do this, don't we? Be it 8 or 9 or 40 years old, we think about that one big moment...that great moment...that life changing moment, when confetti falls from the sky and the crowd goes wild; that moment that clearly marks our purpose, the exact thing we were made for. Like Kelly Clarkson winning American Idol, singing "a moment like this". With the spotlight and her fancy dress, and the recognition and praise we all so desire, even though we won't admit it openly. It was like a fairy tale story, and the ending was perfect. It was an amazing moment.

Back in October my girlfriends and I took a road trip to Virginia to work and be a part of a beautiful retreat for the coordinators of Walking With Purpose. If I close my eyes right now, and welcome the silence, I can easily pull up the emotions, the spirit, the love, the flat out awesomeness of that weekend. God was there. And I got to do my thing, and yes it was exhausting, and to be completely honest, I wasn't always too sure of what "my thing" even was, but praise be to God I was entrusted with a microphone none the less, and to quote Saint Paul, "there, but for the grace of God, go I." This moment was an amazing moment, and I did not allow my former self--the one that did not seek out God in all things---to forget to acknowledge that the only reason I was there at all was because God put me there. And don't we just love God when He puts us in places we want to be?

To complete the retreat, my sweet friends gifted me with a beautiful, rustic sign with a quote from Esther 4:14. "Perhaps this is the moment for which you were created." And I looked at the sign and I read those words and I thought, "thank you, Father, for this moment." I hung that sign where I can see it, right from my side of the bed, as a fabulous reminder of a weekend I cherish.

But just as quickly as Jesus leads us up the mountain of glory, he walks us back down. And I recently found myself overwhelmed by a sadness and a fear that I could not make sense of. In truth, it had me angry at God, because I thought I had been doing everything right...I made Him a priority...and so why on earth would He send me such darkness? Why on earth would he allow this crappy moment to be my crappy moment...my reality...my life? What could the purpose possibly be?

And I sunk to the floor and I hugged my knees and I looked up and saw my beautiful rustic sign.

And the light within me started to flicker.

And then?

Then it turned on.

And everything shifted.

The world went into focus.

And I might have gasped before whispering to myself,

"THIS was the moment for which I have been created.

THIS."

Maybe our big moment...the one for which we were created, has nothing to do with bright lights, and autographs, and our own personal glory.

What if the moment we were created for was one that meant standing brave in the face of fear, holding on to hope when everything else screams despair.

What if the moment we were created for is painful and hard and requires us to cling so hard to the cross because holding on to the wood is the only thing that is keeping us from falling?

What if the moment for which I was created has nothing to do with pointing glory to me, but everything to do with pointing glory to God?

And is it possible for me to look that moment square in the eye and say Thank you?

To say thank you Lord, for putting me right here.