Twenty-Six Revolutions

The English, the American, the French, the Russian, the Chinese: these are five revolutions historians and the world have deemed worthy of our attention and memory, and rightfully so. But, today, my mind pauses, not to consider any life-altering political revolution, but rather to ponder the significance of the simple twenty-six revolutions I have had the privilege to personally take around the sun. (That’s a clever way of saying that I’ve officially been around for twenty-six years.) October 29th, 1997 marks the day of my first breath as well as the beginning of my first revolution. The journey has been anything but linear since.

I could take the time today to unpack the events that have taken place throughout my life and the way they formed me. I could illustrate in color the trauma and joys and the whys and hows of who I have become. But perhaps we’ll save those hearty details for the biographer to pen a few more revolutions from now. Instead, I’ll discuss the rise and fall (and rise again) of Birkenstocks, scrunchies, and corduroy, the permanent ousting of the once assumed eternal reign of Starbucks as my primary source of caffeine, and how the little girl in me that once fervently hated the look and feel of tennis shoes is now an adult wearing Nike Legacies for leisure on a Saturday morning. Through these revolutions, my taste has changed, my hobbies have come and shifted in waves, and my closet has taken what feels like a thousand different faces. I have read books that have allowed me to walk the halls of some of the greatest minds of history. I have watched movies that have taught me to romanticize the vibrancy of life, but also those whose obnoxious drama have made me crave the staleness of the mundane. I have then, in turn, grown discontent walking in the staleness of the mundane that I once craved. (Imagine being so fickle.) I have wiped tears from my eyes minutes before having to walk into work and find a brave face to teach literacy to over twenty children that all need more from me than an education. I have breathed the sweet smell of Earl Grey and vanilla on a chilly autumn morning. I have heard the voice of God. I have experienced the warm familiarity of community in a cafe on the other side of the world. I’ve seen a rainbow rest its rays over a mountain range and whisper promises to the missionary of an island nation. I’ve seen the fruit of those whispers. I have been unexplainably ill. I have been miraculously healed. I have proclaimed my joy in song. I have felt sorrow that has stolen my speech. I have hurt and been hurt. I have laughed and cried. I have lived. In these twenty-six revolutions, I have lived.

In all this living and changing and learning and growing, one thing has been constant: Jesus has been faithful. He has never ceased to be the answer in crisis. He has never ceased to be the one upon whom I can lean. He has never ceased to be the most fortified refuge for my heart. I have never been alone. As my mind roamed the worlds walled up by the materials of my imagination, He was there. As my heart longed for and chased after things He didn’t create for me, He was there. As my thoughts filled my heart with fear in seasons of sickness and loneliness, He was there. As I dreamed about the promises He had softly uttered to my heart, He was there. I feel like my testimony mimics that of David’s today. Not particularly in the slaying of giants, or the ruling of a nation, or even in the ushering in of the presence of God, but in the fidelity of that presence to linger through every revolution of his life. My heart echoes the song he penned in Psalm 139:8. If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there. After twenty-six revolutions, what I can proclaim to you with the strongest confidence is this: life is multiplied in value and purpose and joy when you allow yourself to be held in the hands of the Creator. But, not held merely for holding’s sake. Rather, held that you might be shaped; held that you might be kept; held in a way that rends you dependent, that teaches you how small you are and how safe He is. Looking back through the seasons each revolution has brought forth in my life, I find myself humbled and grateful at the constant evidence of the moving of His hand, but infinitely more grateful for every time that the moving of His hand revealed to me a little more of His face. He has shown Himself to me in ways I could never be righteous enough to earn. See, within these twenty-six revolutions around the sun, there have been thousands of tiny revolutions within my heart, almost political in nature; places where the government of my flesh was overthrown by the radical love of God, and that is what shaped me. Twenty-six revolutions in, and that is still what shapes me. It is the best I have to offer. So, herein lies the pinnacle of my wisdom after twenty-six trips around the sun: let your heart be captured by the Lord.