My Orange Comfy Chairs

I am sitting in my office. It's dark. It's late. And I have NO clue why I am still here.
Well...maybe I do. First, no- my office is not some kind of shelter or safe haven---at least for me. These four walls bear memories I'd rather forget on certain days. These walls know all my mistakes, failures, tears, screams, occasional rants and raves, and my doubts. And we all know walls can talk. I'm not sure I trust these walls. Secondly, I am not exactly working in my office. I am kinda, definitely have been, and still sort of am... The reason I'm in my office is an orange chair.
There is a pair of orange soft comfy chairs I bought at a yard sale in Culbertson. I love these chairs. They were in my house but I brought them to my office to share in the orange chair love. Because when you sit in them, you can't get up. How cool is that? People can't escape what I gotta say because you just can't pull yourself out of the orange chairs. Brilliant, right?
These chairs started this ministry with me. My first purchase for my new house (I rent.) for my new life in a new town full of new chances. The chairs understand where I'm coming from...metaphorically speaking that is. I find comfort in these chairs. I find a place where I belong even for a brief moment. Sitting, swirling around in my big orange chair reading, writing, or watching countless hours of Grey's Anatomy (On my days off only!) things just might be okay.
These chairs remind me sometimes God's beside me and in front of me and behind me in this walk. You know, cause honestly, sometimes you wonder when you forget to remind youth of a fundraiser, you totally lose your cool with a parent, the elders are not happy with your last move, your pastor thinks you might be Baptist, and all your friends and family are "away from the phones" right now if God is there. You wonder cause ministry shouldn't feel this lonely, right? But it does and it will...
The other night as I was brooding about these thoughts- I thought of my old mantra. Old as in I don't think it necessarily cuts it... I always believed being a D.C.E. or in ministry at all was like being a disciple. It was who they were- who you are- 24/7. They never stopped being disciples or apostles and they dealt with that... I was wrong. I have a long way to go before I can call myself a disciple. After Christ ascended they lived lives of the call to matyrdom...persecution...maybe sometimes even lonliness... but they didn't do a lot of complain'n. They knew what all of that was worth. I know what it's worth... I do but I am not sure I can handle all the sacrifices. Because you have to be real and you have to accept the fact that God will call you to nothing less than He created you to be and that may or may not be who you are in this moment. I have many roads to go before I get there; I am not going to give God excuses (Or try not to...) about what I am not willing to sacrifice for Him.
Awhile back I changed my screen name on this server. It has a lot of meaning. Lately, I have felt the weight of the law and I have seen it coming like a speeding locomotive at me... which is why I make splendid talk of running as fast as I can elsewhere. Just make believe. The Gospel is that I know that while God wants better for me; more from me; He still loves me the way I am. And that one thought is what lets me sleep at night and wake-up and continue doing this... ministry.
My orange comfy chair and me are going to be okay. Life might be okay. And maybe I will finally leave my office and go home.
~From the chair,
Erica--- Forgiven Lass