FOR WHEN WORDS FEEL INADEQUATE
As dots of ink snaked their way across the page, it seemed impossible they could ever fill the insatiable hole left by grief after a series of intense losses in my little faith community. Tasked with writing words of hope, I found none fit for the job, and I was desperate for the Word Himself to show up in every way I had ever experienced Him before; in His Word, in me, and in His beautiful community.
So you want to impact the world for Jesus—but your life feels more like a train wreck than a billboard for God’s love. I used to feel this way, too, until one young girl changed everything.
Her name was Leilani, Hawaiian for a heavenly garland of flowers. I felt an immediate connection with her bright spirit. As a teen mom, she knew what it was to be wrecked by rejection and cast out by the callous. Yet she also understood the joy of being loved by Jesus without limit.
I first met Leilani when she invited herself to a Bible Study in my home. You heard that right. She invited herself and arrived with a well-marked Bible, eager to learn. On her way out the door, she whispered, “I want to be like you.” Startled, I asked her what she meant. “When I grow up, I want to tell others about Jesus.” But growing up would not be part of her story—she would not reach eighteen.
Leilani’s unexpected departure from our little community sent waves of witness to all in her sphere. Her classmates, who attended a last-chance high school for students with behavioral problems, felt her impact too.
What was it that made her so impactful?
As post-pandemic creatures, we share one undeniable thing: the slow healing of global trauma brought on by lockdowns, shutdowns, and social distancing. Even though my desire to connect and commune was more intense than ever as restrictions eased, I’ve struggled to return to a more engaged life with other humans. Complacency set in, and I grew more comfortable in my isolation. I asked myself, “Why go to all the effort? Would it really matter if I stayed settled in my estranged life?”
Wait. This one word has the power to steal my breath and leave me eager to exhale when faced with an uncertain future—especially when the power to steer the situation lies outside my control.
Naomi’s last word of instruction to Ruth was wait. Boaz promised to handle the redemption of Ruth and the redemption of Naomi’s land by day’s end. (Ruth 3) This must have brought some relief to Ruth’s desire for a stable future for herself and Naomi. But how disheartening to hear another redeemer, a nearer relative, someone she knew nothing about, had first dibs ahead of Boaz.
