Sometimes when I write, it hurts. The pain just gushes out and splatters itself in perfect little blobs all over a page somewhere. Other times, it numbs my feelings. Still others, it helps me come to grips with what exactly is happening. And what *is* happening is really quite simple.
God is taking an awkward, lumpy rock and turning it into a beautiful, shimmering jewel.
I don't mean that in a bragging sort of way. I just mean it in the 'wow, God really is a big, awesome God.' way. Because that's what He's doing. Every day. Every time I want to cry and scream and yell at the world for not letting things go my way. Every time I say goodbye, every time I give something up. Every time I smile at someone I don't want to talk to in the least bit. Every time I hang up the phone, knowing that words can't express my feelings. Every time I remember something I wish I could forget... It's just God, shaving down another corner of this jagged lump of grimy stone.
And I hope that at the end of this semester, or at the end of the next four years, whatever happens, wherever I end up... I hope that I can read through my words and know that, even though I make mistakes, even though I do spend way too much time feeling sorry for myself, even though I do wish with everything inside of me that I was with my family and loved ones... I haven't missed the purple cow.
Maybe I should put up a sign on my wall. A big, white poster with a purple cow right.smack.inthemiddle. Don't miss the purple cow, honey. It'll save your life.
It'll save all of us, if we let it. Who would have thought another useless fact out of my little brother's mouth would stick with me like this. What purple cow, Micah. What in heaven's name are you talking about.
The purple cow, Boo. Everyone notices a purple cow.
A purple cow is taking the same-old-same-old and making it new. It's taking a Bible verse we've all heard a million times and actually listening just this once. It's taking phrases like 'oh my god' and turning them into prayers of grief, love, awe. It's walking ALL THE WAY ACROSS CAMPUS to get to a lounge that may or may not have transfer students in it. And remembering with ever crunch of your little bare feet on the pavement that you, yeah, you. You are loved by a great, big, crazy God.
Don't miss the purple cow, honey. It's sitting right there in front of you. Calling, begging, pleading. Just come home, my child. Just sit still. Just listen to my voice.
Just rest in my big, purple cow arms.
