I find it difficult to bare my soul.
I’m lucky if I can even manage a barely audible, “I’m sorry, I don’t like onions,” when I’m offered a dish covered in them.
I don’t want to offend. I don’t want to put in the incredible amount of effort it seems to take to be understood. I don’t want to burden anyone else with my problems.
This is especially true in spoken conversation. I’ve had too many tell me, “You’re wrong,” too many laugh at me, too many roll their eyes and make snide comments.
Did I mention that I dislike confrontation, that I almost always regret words spoken in anger? All of this combines to make me good at small talk, good at showing interest in someone else’s life, and bad at spreading the gospel message.
Or does it? The first two points are true, but not the third. When Jesus told his apostles to “Go and make disciples of all nations,” He wasn’t telling us that we should all become priests. He wasn’t saying that we should all visit other countries and stand on their street corners, proclaiming the Good News.
God is absolutely magnificent in His subtlety, the way He fills our lives with nuances and hints. He never claimed that He wanted all of our lives to look alike, and He never asks us to be someone we’re not. He’s not looking for perfection. “No, thank you,” He says. “Don’t change for me. I’ll work with what you can give me.”
What I can give Him are my writing skills, my efforts to capture the beauty of His creation with my digital camera, the time I devote to my children, and a life lived so that someone else might say of me, “Hmmm. I wonder why she seems so content.”
