A letter to Mabel...
I walked Folly Beach tonight. Headphones in, the Atlantic rolling in and out, the setting sun splitting the horizon into an array of fire and hot pink. I thought about all of the things I want you to know about the 32-year old life I live right now and the relationships I’ve had (and not had) and the places I’ve been. So here are a few words, my not-yet spawn.
I want you to embrace the world in all of its imperfect, unknown, scary glory. I want you to run toward the things that excite your heart and startle your bones. Your life on this earth will be brief in the grand scheme of eternity, and the world needs you – your desire and passion and voice. Look to Jesus for your inspiration, be brave in your callings, and be bold in your love for others. Wear cardinal red lipstick. Cook a big pot of pasta, throw pillows on the floor and invite your friends over for dinner. Be honest in your struggles and share them with people who protect your growing heart. Vulnerability shapes community and safety and solidarity in this lonely creation.
Most likely, you will fall in love with the places that teach you about yourself, that reveal layers of your soul and connect you to the person you want to be and the things you want to create in this brimming world. Make sure you take in the stillness of a mountaintop and the constant, rolling rhythms of the ocean. Board a big jet plane across the Atlantic or the Pacific. Wander the streets of foreign cities, ask questions, eat food you’re not used to even if it rattles your colon.
Above all, my brave, lionhearted girl, do the things that remind you of your smallness. It’s through the poverty of our humanity that God performs the big, Kingdom work.