How do we know our calling?  How do we discern the voice of God?  How do we know that we are living the life that God intended for us?  

Is kindness of God?  Is love?  Is risk, for the sake of obedience, of God?  Is sacrifice in the name of humility?  Is peacemaking of God?  Weighing out, is there a weighing out of a person’s worth before we decide to step in on the side of justice?  Is a person who looks like I do worth more to me than a person who appears to be different, or is my kind the lowest of all?

As I prepare my heart for the conversations in the coming days, the necessary explaining of my answers to questions like these, a pause for clarity is good for my heart.  If a man dies while saving a child, what does he lose? If a man saves his own life and allows a child to die, what does he gain?  

I believe that God is less concerned with results and more concerned with the heart behind those results.

Today I was sitting in church, listening to Pastor Alban go on about John chapter 15, not understanding much of anything.  But the visions I was having were of hands joining to make a bridge to peace in Mitrovica.  Walking across that bridge of hands brought together in greeting were the children of that city; safe and high above the Iber River below.  And where were the parents in that vision, the adults who inherited a city divided by hatred from their parents?  Where were the workers who were standing to see that peace be made?  They were ankle, knee, waste, chest deep in a mighty river.  They were cold, and their clothing was wet.  It might be that their best pants, finest shoes, and most richly colored blouses were becoming brown, stained ruins bound to join a pile of refuse.  And would you stand in the mud, apologize to your sworn enemy, and offer them you hand if it meant that your child would know peace?  Are you called, do you feel called to try?  Is that sort of endeavor, of God?  

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