Because of my expanded sense of "Indianness," I notice how un-Indian my surroundings are. I must choose to use this for the good or to my downfall. Shall I welcome in feelings of isolation and disconnectedness from my homeland and family or nurture my fledgling wings?This new awareness of cultural identity sets my feet on the path to more fully embrace the way God created me. He created us not only with a purpose but fearfully and wonderfully made us as Psalm 139 describes. He intended that we be unique. The erroneous thought that we replicate ourselves must come from the enemy whose inability to create anything must enrage him. I do not desire to be a pawn in the hands of the enemy moved about without strength or soundness of mind.
In the gentle quiet of the waning summer morning I walk lighly in the new sense of direction listening to Creator guide me, not wanting to miss His whispered command to go forth to the nations. Creator's bold brushstrokes of clouds fill the sky, evidence that He speaks life, not death. The contrast of white on expansive blue reminds me to keep life simple and to walk in beauty. Birdsong lifts my heart while the strident crescendo of locust moves in circular waves prompting me to actively listen and determine the direction of His voice. Spirit breezes through, moving in the tops of the trees and the outstretched branches dance with joy. It is the breath of God bringing life to all His creation. Nothing escapes His touch. I am tucked inside the stand of trees, watched over, protected in Creator's arms; yes, held in the palm of His hand. He gives me the fragrance of the earth moistened by the morning dew as a bouquet. I am the daughter of the King.
How do city-dwellers survive without this tangible presence of God? No two days are alike in the natural world. Why do we readily believe Creator wants us to remain the same, untouched by the breath of life or unmoved by the Spirit?
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