I read a blog post yesterday morning by an encouraging new writer I found about being content in the season we are in and not longing for the “next thing.” That afternoon, I finally sat down with 30 uninterrupted minutes to watch KONY 2012–the Invisible Children film that instantly went viral as young people attempt to see Joseph Kony, the leader of the L.R.A., finally arrested, which would initiate an end to the murders, abductions, rapes, and sex slavery that have dominated children’s lives in regions spreading across Africa for the last decade.
I remember when the first Invisible Children film was released. I was in college at the time, and it was a BIG deal. I remember hearing updates periodically over the next year or so about the efforts of these three young men, and the many more who were joining with them to advocate for the children of Uganda. It was inspiring. Everyone wanted to be involved. Then I stopped hearing about it. I stopped thinking about these children. I stopped praying for justice and for God to intervene. And then, I forgot.
I moved on to the “next thing.” God gave me a glimpse of his heart for young girls trapped in sex trafficking across the globe. He gave me a glimpse of his heart for the city of Seattle. Yet I kept finding myself moving on the the “next thing.” Not because I stopped caring, or because my heart was never really broken for these people in the first place. I moved on because I stopped feeling empowered, or even capable, of producing any real change. I gave up hope. I found a new “passion”; something maybe I could actually play a part in. But when I ended up feeling just as small and insignificant in my desire to advocate for whatever the new cause was, or circumstances changed in my life that shifted me away from the new burden, I moved on again.
As I watched the KONY 2012 film, I was amazed to see what young people across the world have done in the last 8 years. I knew the Invisible Children organization was still around, but I had no idea how hard people were fighting for change, nor did I know the extent of Joseph Kony’s influence and renown. Not everyone moved on. Not everyone forgot. Many maintained an enduring passion.
God began to show me yesterday that too often, I stop looking into His face and asking for more of His heart for the people He has called me to advocate for. I encounter His heart and am filled with a passion for Jesus and His purposes on the earth, and then the passion dies when I start fighting and believing for breakthrough with my own strength instead of His. I simply grow weary.
But I was not created to be weary. I was created to maintain an enduring passion by the strength and power of the Holy Spirit. I am small and insignificant on my own, but I was created to partner with the most powerful ruler in Heaven and on Earth and change the world.
Jesus, make me a woman of enduring passion.