“It’s just a notebook…” Amy shares shyly, as she hands me a blank brown journal.
She has no idea what that one little thing means to me.
In our first two weeks of DTS lectures, I eagerly scribbled in my sketchbook as an artist and writer does. I soaked in the words from our speakers and scripted the stories of life-changing experiences. Then I started to notice– I was creeping close to using a third of my sketchbook– the only journal I brought.
A straining feeling began to claw at me every time I used up a page. In lectures, in devotions time, in worship– I didn’t want to write down too much because blank space was disappearing. Even though my brain wanted to convince me that it didn’t matter, my heart was feeling otherwise.
What will happen if it runs out?
When I arrived here in Australia, I still didn’t know how all my fees would be taken care of. I had worked in my hometown, and seen an incredible amount of generosity from friends and family that made it possible to get here. However, I was still in a place where spending money was not on my radar.
Even the littlest thing, like a new journal, became a step of faith
beyond anything I had in the physical. So the fear of running out? It was real, vivid, and actually a bit crippling.
Then I opened up my “homework” journal and stumbled upon one of YWAM’s Foundational Values.
“YWAM is called to practice a life of dependence upon God for financial provision. For individuals and YWAM corporately this comes primarily through His people. As God has been generous toward us, so we desire to be generous.”
It was a splash of cool water to the face– something I knew so well but had forgotten. Kayla, you live in a community of radically giving people, not to mention a scandalously generous Father! I had to make the choice to remember – if I run out, God isn’t blind to my needs. He sees my desires– even if it’s simply a blank page to scribble on– and He fulfils them, even before I run out.
That brings me back to hugging Amy, whispering, You have no idea, thank you.
I plonked down back in my chair, and chuckled at the cartoon creature on my new journal’s cover. He’s a little bit wild, and his mouth is wide open– yep, ready to be satisfied.
The little things mean the world to me–
because they are reminders of a big God who loves us,
down to the very last detail.