Today is one of those days that I am sitting down to write,
but have no idea what to say. My writing professor called this “free writing.” I’ll
call it being faithful…or at least trying to be. Because I honestly believe
that we are stewards of the abilities we have, and that they are meant to be
used for the good of others. And do you want to know a secret? Most of the time
when I sit down to write I don’t quite know what I’m going to say, or at least
how I am going to say it. I sort of just offer myself up to the Lord and begin, and somehow thoughts start to
take shape, and amazingly, sometimes people even tell me they are blessed or
helped by what I write. I’m not trying to be modest when I tell you this
surprises me every time. Really? Just
these simple, scrawled out words? Just my life, with all my mistakes and
brokenness? You would use this,
Lord? And yet, He does. Someone said once that you don't need to be a good writer; you just need to share your story, and I've taken those words to heart. Most of the time, I really don't think I'm a good writer. I get nervous when I hit "publish" and I play the words that I've said over in my mind way too many times. But people tell me to "keep writing," and so I do.
I don’t know who you are reading this. I don’t know how many
you are. I don’t look at the stats anymore to see how many “hits” this blog gets. It
really doesn’t matter. Even if it was just one person…just you out there who
clicked on a link, or somehow ran across these words some other way. It would
be worth it. I want you to know that you are loved. And just as I peck away at this
keyboard, not wanting whatever skills I have to atrophy, and needing to remind myself over and over again of what is true, I know as sure as
there is breath in my lungs that you
have a gift. I’m not trying to go all Hallmark card on you. It’s true. You have
something to offer the world. And sometimes you might not know exactly what to
do with it, or you might not even know what it
is, but mostly, more than some talent or ability, I think your gift is you. It’s your story. It’s all of your
experiences—all the hurt and the healing, all the failures and victories, all
the wrestling and lessons. Only you have lived your life. Only you have seen
what you have seen through the lens of your own experiences and knowledge. Only you can truly empathize with those who have walked down similar paths to yours.
It's not about having that one thing to define who you are. It's easy to get caught up in finding ourselves, when what we really need is to lose ourselves.
So,
share your story, whether through writing, art, speaking, or simply walking
alongside someone in humility, allowing them to see who you truly are—and extending
grace to them for all their broken places. You can’t possibly know the outcome,
but you can do this—simply offer yourself up and begin.
In the eyes of the world, you may never do
anything “big” with your talents, or even with your life as a whole. But there
was One whose life mission was summed up in the word “Serve.” And when He hung
on a cross, many must have shook their heads and thought to themselves, “What a
waste!” But his Father was pleased with his life and with his offering, and
three days later raised him from the dead, showing him to be Lord indeed. And
He said once that a servant is not greater than his master. I think it’s safe
to say that the Father is pleased with
you when you imitate Jesus, when your life mission is summed up in the word
“serve,” when you offer up all that you have and all that you are to be used
for the good of others. Just as hitting "publish" can be scary, it can be scary to live honestly and openly before others for the same reasons--you can't control how people will receive what you share; you feel vulnerable and exposed. But it is the honest, open life that ministers the most--that invites others to the table of grace where broken people feast.
I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God,
to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which
is your spiritual worship.
Romans 12:1