It did not happen because I got a job!
I have a thankful heart that I only was jobless for two weeks. In this small town I have just begun a full-time job within walking distance of my house. What an answer to prayer! I feel so blessed. I am now learning how to serve Jesus with my job which is cool and also hard.
I am seeing other answers to prayer around. Like when I was running out of money I found a large quantity of money in my purse that was in another currency that I forgot to exchange back to Canadian dollars. WOO. There is always enough.
I have a thankful heart when I buy tomatoes at the Farmer's Market from a Mennonite lady. I mean, can we all agree that that is awesome?
Or when one of my housemates bakes.
I think I just really like food.
I have a thankful heart when I think of all the people I have met. Last Wednesday I was able to attend the weekly morning prayer meeting we have on campus. It happens at 7:30 every morning which is quite early for university students. In the past usually around three or four people would be there. Last week there were eleven of us gathered in intercessory prayer for our university. And many of them were new students! I am reminded that God is doing incredible things here. He never stops creating.
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| And I have a thankful heart when I think about the "Mud Creek" town in which I live |
I also have a thankful heart when I think about the things I am learning about identity.After living in Mozambique for a while, I learned that my identity does not come from my culture. And after graduating from university and now working at a job that does not require any economics knowledge, I am learning that my identity does not come from my vocation.
Every person will see a different side of me. The people in Mozambique may see me as a white person; the people I serve at work may see me as a coffee-pouring-machine; the people with whom I play frisbee may see me as some girl with whom they play frisbee. They don't know my story. They don't know I broke my collar bone when I was about five years old when my brother tackled me. They don't know that I like to dance in my living room when I'm home alone. They only see the teensy part of me they see.
But I hope when they see-- when you see-- whichever teensy part of me you see, you see Christ. Because that is the most important thing. Because Jesus Christ sees all sides of me, the quirky, the fun, and the despicable, and He ferociously loves me regardless. My identity is in Him.
