Dust in the Wind

This time last week, I was attending that writers conference in St. Louie I mentioned.

Was that really only a week ago? It seems like it's been a month. I've been working hard since then, following up conference business, catching up home chores, going to dinner with my husband, homeschooling the kids, shopping for a new car (yay!), writing blog posts, writing fiction, falling into place on the church drama team. (That latter group is a class full of class clowns.)

Where is my calling? Where do I belong?

Everywhere. Anywhere. I'm forever running late, because I live too much in the moment. Wherever I may be, there I am. Wherever I may be, I want to drip Jesus (even if I fail or forget), and I sometimes hesitate to move on.

I breathe
I eat
I dance
I die
And yet I never live

You can feel me
But cannot touch me
Although your heart may hold me

Nothing with life survives without me
And nothing of heaven and earth will survive me

I am Fire

("I am Fire" © 2010, 2011 Anne Lang Bundy)

The fire in my heart for the Lord is as mysterious to me as the fire I just put in our wood stove for these first chilly hours of October. How does the tiny flame ignite and convert heavy chunks of tree into ash, which disappears into the wind when I dump the ash bucket—leaving behind peace and warmth inside?

The fire in my heart for the Lord reduces me to nothing some days. I think I've finally been reduced to ash, nothing left but dust in the wind.

That's okay with me, as long as I leave behind a little peace and warmth of the Lord in the process.

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Copyright 2011, Anne Lang Bundy, all rights reserved.