I Did Not Want to be a Blogger
Lord, it’s me. Goodmorning. Thanks for the day and the sunshine and all, but do you think I could take the day off?
Yesterday I loved you with reckless abandon. I walked forward, fearless, because when You lead me, who can stand against?
Yesterday was rock solid. It was a day oozing with victory.
It was the kind where, His love filled my heart and poured into the lives of everyone I spoke with. And, for even half a second, I thought this must be what Mother Theresa felt like - but everyday.
But then today happens.
I wake up to delightful baby babble bouncing up and down in my bed. Burying herself under the pillows and popping out with her irresistible grin and luring me in for morning tickles. Then brother hears all the laughing and he pounces.
Pillows and tickles and laughter and bliss. Does life get any better than this?
But it does. Because the husband wakes up and eyes me, knowing too how a heart can burst from the love-overflow. Strong arms surround me, my safe place. Children and Daddy and giddiness overtake us all.
And God, I don’t want to go out in the world today. Please? Can’t I just stay right here in this perfect moment? Can we freeze frame this, stop time for a while?
I’m not ready. I’m not ready for this chapter to end. Can’t we stay on this page a while longer?
This new place He is calling me to is scary and I don’t really want to go. I have always wanted to be used by You, ever since I prayed that Isaiah prayer, “Here am I. Send me.”
But God, I planned on going to another place. I never envisioned my mission field being my hometown. I was thinking Africa, you know? But here... what if they don’t like what I have to say. And what about when all my imperfections show through? Does it have to be this town?
Because they know me here - the real me. They know the faltering mistakes and the ugly messes I can make in a day - in an hour.
There must be someone better. I'm not the best candidate, really. Me, the one with the ever envious heart, the glutton with the plate stacked too full, the one who is more often concerned with convenience than compassion. Me, the mother with the sharp tongue, word splinters erupting like confetti on her children. Me, the wife who can rain down a nag session like rifle fire, the woman who wrestles more with what to wear than where to walk in obedience. Me, the one who has gotten far more things wrong that right, who returns again and again to her sin, who wrestles with the Holy Spirit within her because she'd rather go her own way. All of this, this is me. So why me?
And then here they come, like the trickle down sound the first raindrops make at the beginning of the shower. Here come these little nuggets of those memorized bits of God-text popping into my mind just when I wish they wouldn't.
And I can’t bring myself to love my own comfortable situation more than the very Word of God. It has been the one thing in my life that has consistently saved my life. His Word to me. His guidance, His loving written language of truth - truth that frees us.
It's the only solid thing we have here on this rotating sphere, and no matter how many times we spin around the sun, that Truth Book doesn't change.
This place He has called me into - living borderless - it intimidates me. Living transparently and authentically, loving raw and real right here in the open for the world to see, it goes against human nature, pushes back against the current of what flows naturally in a life. It feels so odd at times, abnormal but in a good way. Uncommonly lovely. And wasn't Jesus uncommon? And isn't His love borderless?
But God, are you really calling me to this public platform? I don't even own a computer. I'm a non-techy girl in a super techy world. I don't fit in here in blog-land. And just a while back when I tried to leave my very first comment ever as a reader on Sarah's blog, I couldn't even get that right. I literally couldn't get it to post! How non-qualified does that make me? Like, a lot, right?
I have always yearned to speak the truth and stand for what is right, but not like this. Not with my name attached and attainable from the farthest corner of the world. I’ll never have another friend again. Will people seek me out and try to ruin me the way they did Christ?
But there it is. A mouthful of I’s.
I, I, I. Me, me, me.
But I know it’s not about me. It’s about You. You and a world full of people out there who need to hear the message of Your love. People who need to see the Truth, who need to be freed from the chaos of today’s culture.
And of course, Christ wasn’t ruined. His life’s purpose was only brought to completion through His persecution.
Lord, I am racking my brain for a scripture to get myself grounded. To give me an encouraging kick in the rump. But none are coming to mind.
Of course I can’t abandon the truth.
There’s a world full of people out there that have never had this.
This crazy love. This life abundant that comes, not from a full checking account and a two car garage (neither of which I have), but from the joy of a life lived loving You and knowing Your truth.
But I can’t think of any verses that make me want to shout from the rooftops right now. Nothing comes to mind. No reality check.
Only the wonder-joy of this moment.
I have a brain full of blog posts to type out... but I don’t want to. Because the things I have to say would require my readers to adorn their steel footwear, lest these topics crush their toes. I know because I have just lived it, and my toes bear the bruises - or perhaps my pride does...
But where would I be if You hadn’t sent someone to share their story with me? Where would I be if I were still wading through this messy life, not knowing how to get out of the knee-deep muck? Who would I be if I'd never known how to loose the bindings and be freed from the lies of this busted up world? How could I ever be the real me without the Truth of You?
And I think of the world full of women like me, wishing for someone to lock arms with and do life with. I think of the beautiful, beloved faces that I have not yet seen, I think of you, reading this blog. I think of how you can see me in this very transparent place - blemishes, B.O. and all. It's the scariest thing ever to me - how my life is now on full display, and oh the imperfections you'll find here! It's like being the ugly, bare little bud before the plant flourishes in life. Nothing about my life deserves a display like this.
But still, I love those whom the Lord loves, and I want you to know too, this joy that He gives. This joy that comes from letting go the white-knuckled grip on a life and releasing it to Him. I think of all I've learned and lived lately and then there's this: Doesn't it always seem like the tighter we hold on, the less control we really have?
My body jolts hard when the five year old flings a pillow through the air missing his father but smashing me with it instead. I am a casualty of this giddy war of feathers and fluff. I have no choice except to shift back to this moment, here in the world of down, when a this motley crew turns mutinous and I see all three of them eyeing me like gold-lusting pirates. I fight the Daddy and his villainous children away with my feather pillow, but it is hopeless. I am overtaken and am a spastic mess, ticklish to no end.
When I can finally breathe again and they seem satisfied with their victory, I feel the pull inside me. Maybe I could just leave this daunting task to someone else? Anyone can write a blog. God, I really just want to be a wife and a mom right now. Nothing more. Not a "blogger". It's comfortable here, safe, fun, easy.
But he is asking me to make a decision. To make a choice - to worship the gift of the right-now-bliss or to worship the Bliss-Giver, the Gift-Giver.
And I remember how it is a three step process. And I remember how I learned it from Ann.
First, receive the moment. Next recognize it for the gift that it really is. And then give thanks for it.
Simple, really, but not always easy to do. And I wish there were vaccines for spiritual ills.
Because I am not yet immune to idolatry.
I'd much rather give my affections to this moment, worship the gift of now, than to give my time in service of this scary, hard thing, this blogger-thing.
Yesterday I could have run the gauntlet for You - so zealous was my heart. I'd have jumped a ship to cross the oceans for you; I'd have braved the unknown in any direction. But today, can I just have the day off?
I remember how He has taught me that so much of speaking His truth depends on how we speak it - with love and grace. I remember how my friend Curt came right out and said that, from that Ephesians 4:15 verse. And how it had smacked some sense into my younger, unnecessarily blunt self. I remember how I started seeing that the Truth isn't just soul saving facts. It's wrapped in love and smothered in grace and there, underneath all that draws us in, is the eternal story of a true God saving all of mankind.
Even after all this, I still fear rejection.
And who doesn't? But whose do I fear more? Man's rejection of me or Christ's rejection of those who don't know Him?
And as I tussle and roll and tickle and laugh, my thoughts weigh me down, make me slow. I think of this: Far more than I fear my own rejection, I fear not reaching out to others who need a hand on this journey called life. Because I know I need one. Always. Even now. Especially now.
And what about you?
What is it that God is prompting you to do and what are you afraid of? What is that big, scary thing that you know you are supposed to do next, but you haven't committed to yet?
I’d be lying if I acted unintimidated. But we have to remember that God doesn’t call the fearless. He calls the faithful.
We may never be fearless, but we can be faithful. And when we are faithful, He will be faithful to turn the blankness of the bud into the beauty of the blooms.
He will use it all for His glory in His own way.
Tell me how have you been faithful in the face of fear? How did it turn out?
I always need to hear a success story... so fill me in?