Trying to Change

One of my "girls" got out last Friday. We met today and ate a meal together for the first time.
"I'm nervous," she said. "I'm not used to being out. "

I noticed that she had removed the black comb tooth that she had always worn in the hole in her eyebrow.
"I don't wear that in public. In jail it doesn't matter how crazy you look."

I imagined the stress of trying to start it all over again. The longer you're inside, the longer it takes to make it work on the outside. Even her legs are weak. "I climbed the stairs and could barely breathe," she told me.

Her kids are used to a certain routine, and she's not in it. "No one woke me up this morning. I guess they're used to doing things without me around here."

She threw away her cheap cellphone because she didn't want to look at the numbers in it. She didn't want to walk around because she didn't want to see old friends. It's hard to start new.

It's like cutting a board, and starting the groove, then realizing that you're a quarter of an inch off. You've got to start again, but the saw keeps wanting to fall back into the groove.

I know what's happening to her. It's happening to me, too. I am living in the Spirit these days, but every so often the flesh wants to pull me into old patterns of thinking.

She has desire, and she has a new love for Jesus. I'm willing to bet she's going to make it, but it won't be easy. She's going to have to rely on new resources and let the old ones fly. I am going to be there to help her. I believe in her. I see the woman she is in Christ, the one who is going to influence other broken, wandering women down the road. This is what we do.

She and I are growing in Christ. She's a baby. I'm a little further. We are both making discoveries about who we are, and who He wants us to be.

That's what discipleship is about. You learn; you teach. You learn; you teach.

As fast as we are filled, we must give it away. Or we'll explode with love.