On this day, I will, as Oswald Chambers writes, let God "fling me out."
Let God fling you, my friend reminds me all week. She's talking about letting God send me out into those unknown and unsafe purposes, those amazing and unimagined plans.
Before school, I push my daughter on the swing, flinging her as far as she'll go. She can't stop giggling. She's terrified and delighted in equal measure. This is what it feels like to let God fling me. Am I ready for this whirlwind?
Chambers concludes: "The only way God sows His saints is by His whirlwind... Let God fling you out, and do not go until He does. If you select your own spot, you will prove an empty pod. If God sows you, you will bring forth fruit."
I walk on with all the neighbors to school, and I see a blossom stretch out to me, strangely distinct--flung out--dangling. How beautiful to see what this tree brings forth in this spot, right here, today.
Have you let God fling you out before?