A traumatic breakdown and a job resignation followed by a diagnosis of beyond-stage-four cancer. A daughter close to death from a methamphetamine and heroin addiction. My life swerved sideways and tumbled into rapid somersaults before eventually emerging mostly right side up, again.
I could have walked away from the trauma and wreckage, relieved to be alive and never saying a word about what happened. I could have secretly been relieved that I hit the lottery of miracles and then hoarded the riches all to myself. I could have pretended that I never felt an ounce of guilt or shame. I could have excused it away as just a momentary loss of control and pretended I had resumed my life, unscathed.
But I've come to believe our lives are meant to be poured out for others. And not in some haphazard splash and spill, but as a life giving drink offering for those who thirst for hope.
This is the call of a warrior-- to find our way through the battles and to light the way for those in need of hope, freedom and breakthrough.
