I am not my own.

I smell flowers, the kind that have been in your room for too long and you know you need to change the water or better yet, throw them away. But looking around the room, there are no flowers to be found except for the fake ones I bought to brighten up my college dorm room. Those will not be coming with me. I sit now in the bedroom I have called home for the past year. There are empty boxes all around and mail from the past week that needs to be sorted though (thanks, SEND, for sending me an envelope of pens..?).

Tonight in small group we were talking about how God gifts us. One of the scripture verses we were directed to (thank you, John Ortberg) was 1 Corinthians 6:19, “… You are not your own.” All of this change around me, and I am not my own. All of my belongings going into boxes, and I am not my own. Moving away from many of my friends and family, and I am not my own. I was struck by the fact that when people asked me, “How was Washington?” my response was regarding my jet-lag! What about the encouraging conversations I had with people? What about the work that God is doing around the world and in the city of Spokane? I didn’t think to mention it. I was too busy thinking of myself.

I am not my own. I was bought with a price, a price that is worth more than my very life and I do little to think of it often. But my life is as fleeting as dying flowers and may the smell which still lingers in my room remind me that I serve a God who never ends. May His love live through me.

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