waddling with wings: the inspiration that is simply not enough

Today at Wesley Biblical Seminary's graduation, a Reverend-Doctor-someone stood to give his Doctorate of Ministry "Expression of Appreciation."

He spoke about his mama, who was forced to drop out of school in the third grade to pick cotton, necessary for the survival of their family.  

"When I reached third grade," he said, "Mama told me that she couldn't help me any further in my studies...but that she would always find someone who could. We never had much, and when it was time for me to go to college, my mom started mowing lawns.  Every week, she would send me an envelope with $10, maybe $20 dollars from cutting lawns, and a note that told me never to give up, and that she believed in me."

"When I wanted to quit, when people told me I should quit, I'd go get my mail, and there would be that $10, and I knew I had to keep on going."

As I listened to his heartfelt story, I was so moved...what a powerful illustration of motherhood, of all the parents at graduation today, of sacrifice, of great love, of hoping for more, actively.

When he walked across the stage and Matt handed him his diploma, "Doctor of Ministry, with Academic Distinction", they stood for a moment to take a picture.  Suddenly, Matt stopped the photographer and asked, "Where's Mama?" 

Before we knew it, Matt had left the stage and was shimmying down a pew, pulling an itsy-bitsy, 83-year old woman to her feet and walked her slowing back to the stage.  She stood next to her son with their diploma, grinning and crying at the same time, and I don't think there was a dry eye in the place, nor a person still in their seat.

It was inspiring. 

The Kenyan woman, pastor of one of the largest churches in Kenya, mother of four, that I had the privilege of speaking to for a while last night...she greeted her village in Kenya over Facebook live from the stage today...she came all the way to Jackson, Mississippi, just for today. 

She spoke my language. She talked about her people, she talked about her family, she talked about her professors, she talked about every class she took for three years, always at 2 am due to the time change.  She talked about Wesley Biblical Seminary, and called it her village, and I was inspired again...how greatly she has sacrificed and worked for the cause of Christ, that she might become better equipped to serve her people, now with a Master of Arts in Biblical Literature, again, with Academic Distinction. 

This past three weeks of stories, inspiring has been the true theme. 

I have been inspired and inspired again and again. By students rendered homeless taking up their crosses. By graduates abandoning success and comfort for calling. By staff members giving up pay for outreaches they believe in, by a cook who can barely sign her name who will not stop working as if God is stirring the pot next to her, as if Christ receives her dishes. 

By mamas mowing lawns.

I have been pondering this post in my mind and my heart because being inspired has brought so much good stretching, so many good tears, so many beautiful moments, so much conviction, so much challenge.  

I love being inspired. 

It's downright, well, inspiring. 

But it is not enough.

It is not enough to be inspired, family. 

It is not enough to have our hearts raised...to have a good story...to be humbled and amazed.

And an illustration this weekend finally reminded me why.

There was a village of ducks who all worked and lived together. And every Sunday, all the ducks in the village would waddle out from their little duck homes, waddle down the lanes, head into the duck chapel, slide into their pews and wait. They quack their songs, and then the duck pastor comes out and preaches. 

"We have wings!" he would preach, Sunday after Sunday. "God has given us wings, that we might fly! We can fly, we cannot be kept down. We have wings, they are strong, we can feel the wind beneath us, we can go wherever we want to go. God has given us these wings! The sky is the limit, we can rise up on wings like eagles, we can fly!"

"Hallelujah!" everyone quacks. "Amen! Amen!"

And then all the ducks in the village waddle home.

This is not the time just to share more inspiring things on Facebook. It's not the time just to tell more inspiring stories, to talk about truths we are moved by, to quietly treasure these inspiring people and moments and stories in our hearts. To hold onto what God has done and is doing. 

Do you know a mama who has to be struggling to make ends meet, to back up her children, to keep it all together? Could we not come alongside her, and BECOME a part of her story, that must feel awfully uninspiring today as she puts another $10 in the mail?

Do we know a person without family nearby? Are there grandkids we could invest in for a day, even if they aren't OUR grandkids? Do we know a person who is in desperate need of a sister, a brother, an advocate, even if they aren't ours!?

What are we DOING because of the men and women past and present who are dropping our jaws and pointing us to Him??  

How are we living because our hero willing gave up his life for us? 

Do we have an attitude that inspires others on towards Jesus? Or are we pointing to the world and sharing our wisdom?

Do we read about inspiring people but never consider how to HELP them? Do we share inspiring posts but never actually get involved? 

Do we live differently, uncomfortable, because of the inspiration we gather from faithful people, or do we just gather up being inspired.  

How are we living as men and women already forgiven, already reconciled, already freed, already born again, already deeply loved?  Are we inspired by these facts, or are we transformed by them??  

Are we living as if we are waiting for Him to do something, or are we grounded in the reality of what He has already DONE?

Are we noting what God is giving us, every day, and taking off, sky is the limit? 

Or do we waddle on with sincere amens to talk about it over lunch?

I'm trying to figure out what He wants me to DO besides tear up and get to my feet.

So I tear up and get on my knees, instead. 

I'm praying for the men and women He's using to challenge my faith, and praying that He'll show me clear every place I'm waddling with these wings.