The last kid you’d go to for help if a bully picked on you?
That kid was me.
Not that I was apathetic; it’s just that my feelings had a hard time finding their way out of my mouth.
It’s like I was wired with perpetual inner conflict between my strong values and my distaste for conflict.
Does that sound familiar?
The one place I found I could pour out my heart without holding back was with pen and paper. A sixth grade essay, a smattering of poems in junior high, English papers in high school… I found a world of expression with no limits but my creativity.
By college, I started sending poetry to magazines; a few years later, I attended my first writers’ conference. Then came a fourteen-year writing desert, filing ideas while home schooling my three sons.
But God was not wasting time; he was training me in boldness.
Here’s the thing: Christianity is not for wimps. If I had chosen a belief system the way I pick veggies at a salad bar, I’d have picked something less controversial.
Ascribing to a worldview that includes moral absolutes, the reality of hell, and a Savior who claims to be the only way to God is not exactly a natural fit for the timid.
Not in this day and age of smorgasbord spirituality and intolerant tolerance.
But I didn’t choose Jesus so much as he chose me – before the world was formed, according to Ephesians 1:4. I hadn’t yet hit puberty when I accepted his offer to rescue me from sin and selfishness, and he’s kept his promise to transform me.
Something amazing has happened over the years.
God has given me a voice.
Not just for my sake, either. Seven years ago, I searched for a justice/mercy ministry to get involved in. I wanted to demonstrate Christ’s compassion and do justice for the oppressed and marginalized.
I had in mind a sexy, politically-correct mission, like providing clean water for Africans, or fighting the global slave trade.
Jesus asked me to get involved at my local pregnancy resource center.
I hesitated. Abortion is a controversial subject. But I said yes, and soon mercy for the unborn and their distressed parents welled up bigger than my fears – and passion began to find its way onto the page again.
These days, I’m choosing to reach out with courageous compassion to those who may disagree with me. I’m compelled to speak the truth, regardless of the cost. I’m learning that real love doesn’t compromise.
It really, really feels good to have a voice.
Maybe you have a consuming passion for God in your heart, but a hard time voicing it. Maybe you desire to express the love of Christ to your community, but you aren’t sure how.
May I encourage you? If I can love God and others with boldness, you can, too. If I can reach out in a way that wasn’t even on the radar, you can, too.
The purpose of this blog is to encourage you in your personal mission. To help you dust off your faith and refresh your perspective. To equip you to love others boldly. (That’s why I’d love for you to subscribe!)
Oh, by the way, that God-idea you’ve been hesitant about?
It just might be time.
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