Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Chasing Chariots

The Spirit told Philip, "Go to that chariot and stay near it." Acts 8:29

Philip follows the spirit's leading and meets an Ethiopian studying a scroll of Isaiah. The Ethiopian asks Philip to ride along with him and after explaining the passage ("it points to Jesus Christ!"), the Ethiopian asks the chariot driver to pull over so that Philip can baptise him.

What chariot is passing you by? Who is your Ethiopian?

A neighbor? A friend? Your children? A colleague? The grocery store cashier?

One of my Ethiopians is a young woman I barely know. Her chariot passed me by more than 5 years ago, and the spirit, every so often, tells me to go follow it...again. I have fought with the spirit over this. I am too old for chasing chariots. Her chariot looks like it doesn't need chasing, to me. But the spirit is awful stubborn, and so I chase.

After catching up with her chariot a few months ago, I wanted her to know that it truly was not me chasing her. The spirit gave me these words and after sending them to her, my sweet Ethiopian's floodgates opened and her pain burst forth.

Oswald Chambers once said that we should leave the judging to God because there is always one thing more about someone that we know nothing about. I've learned that sometimes the most shiny and majestic-looking chariots carry the most lost travelers.

Chasing Her Chariot
--a letter sent to a fellow traveler

Her post reaches me in the sacred time of day as house creaks.
Snow falling gently out my window as moon lingers before break of day.
A response to my reaching out to say hello.

I didn’t set out to say hello. I am busy.
I haven’t taken time to call my own brother recently.
We are mere acquaintances, she and I.
Meeting briefly, years ago.
I am a middle-aged woman busy with the tasks of mothering and “wifering”.
She is a college student.
Busy with books, friends, activities.
We two are an odd pair, say I.
But we liked each other from the start.
Her wonderful ponderings and sincere questions always help me grow.

But recently, the nudges. The urges.
“Write her”.
“I wonder how she is doing?”
“It’s been a long time since I heard from her.”
“She would like this book.”
I tell my daughter, “that girl in the bookstore reminds me of her. Do you remember her?”

Where do these thoughts come from?
My path has crossed hundreds, perhaps thousands, of people since her.
So strong…these thoughts of reaching out to one in particular.

And so I do.
Alright, already.

You wanted to tell her you love her, didn’t you?
Oh, I know you tell her, and me, you love us a million ways through your creation.
But your love is personal. Intimate.
You wanted her to know.
You wanted flesh and blood to deliver Love.
You want precious, beautiful one to know that
You are good.
You are near.
You hold.
You comfort.

I love you, too, Yahshua.

Thank you for asking me to chase this chariot.

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