I was called into the Principal’s office, but this time it wasn’t because I was I trouble. I was in 2nd grade at Red Bug Elementary and my constant talking had gotten me into trouble before. I don’t know why it was so hard for me to obey the whole “boys and girls, please keep quiet” thing. The harder I tried to remain quiet the more it felt like a huge hot air balloon of words was filling up inside me and no matter what I was going to do, that balloon was about to lift off. I was a talking machine. I couldn’t even read a book silently. It had to be read out loud and I would create a different character’s voice for each character. And it really didn’t matter if you wanted to talk to me or not, I was still going to berate you with lots of chatter; the quieter you were, the better. I just felt that was an invitation to go on and on. I know ---annoying! I’m sure my poor teacher was at her wits end wondering what to do with this excited little talker in her class. The one day, whollah….the answer came in the form of a little Spanish transfer student. My teacher and the Principal explained to me that Sophia* had recently moved to our area and did not speak much English at all. Sophia spoke Spanish. They told me that they hoped that if Sophia and I hung out during the day, that Sophia might pick up a few English words. I don’t know what my little seven year old face looked like, but I can only imagine it was lit up with pure JOY! I was practically being given a FREE PASS to talk! AND….it was going to help someone else. Two of my favorite things….then and now. And really, I had no idea that I’d ever be speaking in front of hundreds of women. I had no idea that all that love of talking would help me when I had to lead a Women’s Retreat. I had no idea that one day I’d be going around to churches and Civic Organizations to talk to them about the need for transitional housing for women in South Georgia. Talking, talking, talking. God did though. I’m glad I never quit talking. I’m glad I wasn't silenced by all the people who glared at me when I wouldn’t shut up. Yes, I had more “run-in’s” because of my excessive talking, but I consider all that to be my training grounds! And I’m glad I didn’t quit when I saw people with way better gifts than my own. Why is it so easy to compare you gift with others and then want to crawl in a hole with yours when their gift seems so much shinier and brighter? Do women struggle more with this comparison thing than men? One minute I’m thinking, “OK God, maybe you have given me something I can do to help this world”, and then I see someone out there doing something REALLY AMAZING and I’m all like “God, you sure you need me? My little gift of talking? Really? Cause I think you could find someone a lot better at this than me.” I’m sure Jesus just wants to ring my neck sometimes! Here He is, lovingly creating each of us IN HIS IMAGE to do HIS WORK with our UNIQUE GIVEN ABILITIES and we’re wondering why we don’t have someone else’s gifting! Several years ago I was sitting at the church piano playing the morning prelude before the service began. I was in the middle of a hymn when a sweet lady came up and sat beside me on the piano bench. She and her husband were military transplants and fairly new to our church. We were in the same Sunday school class and had hung out at some of our class parties. The folks in the congregation were still walking around the sanctuary chatting with each other as we used to do in those days, so I thought she just wanted to greet me. She leaned over to be sure I heard her and then said “I need to apologize. I’ve been jealous of you.” You can imagine this took me completely by surprise. I had no idea what she was going to say next. She said, “Since we’ve been coming, I have been jealous of the fact that you get to be up front every Sunday and I just want to apologize for my bad attitude. I hope you’ll forgive me.” Of course I immediately told her all was forgiven and she put an arm around me as I played and hugged me all while I continued to play something like “He Abides” or “Sunshine, sunshine in my soul today”. All I could think of that day was I HAD NO IDEA. WHY would someone be jealous of me on the platform? And I kind of wish she’d been able to work that out herself and never revealed that to me. But as I think about it, I understand it. We kind of have a way in the church of valuing the “seen” gifts over the “unseen” gifts. The preaching, the teaching, the singing, the playing of instruments---all those things that happen “up front.” And to be truthful, not just UP front, but those IN front of people things. Heading up a program, organizing an event, running that committee---all things done in front of folks. Anything that puts the spotlight on you can sometimes cause someone behind the light to feel “less than”. Preachers will often talk about the gifts given to the church and may list some of the obvious gifts like teaching and music but have you noticed they are quick to add prayer warriors, helpers, nursery workers, etc. Maybe if we listed those first when we talked about gifts, it wouldn’t seem “less than”. Because we do know, right? We do know that there isn’t a BEST gift. There isn’t anything more important than what you’re doing right now for The Kingdom. And we should be CHEERING each other on! Do you know how to pray? Well thank you Jesus that we have folks who still know how to spend time before God! That we have people who will wrestle in prayer no matter how long it takes to break through the fog and into the clarity of praying that anointed prayer. You’re needed! Are you compassionate? Well thank you Jesus that we have people who NOTICE other people’s pain! Who not only see it, but let Jesus show them how to reach out and maybe even help relieve that pain in the only way compassion can. You’re needed! Do you like to cook? Well thank you Jesus that people still cook and take warm cookies to a hurting Pastor or to a neighbor who might need to know the taste of love. You’re needed! Do you like to help out? Well thank you Jesus that people still have the ability to look at a situation and know EXACTLY how they can step in and help and speed up a process. Or make something successful out of what was potentially a big mess. You’re needed! Are you a talker? Well thank you Jesus, cause someone somewhere needs a friend to chat with. You don’t have to want to talk up front, you can greet at a church door or chat in a home on visitation night. You’re needed! I could go on and on. The body of Christ needs you. You’re gift. You’re talent. That thing in life you like to do. There’s a place for it in service to the King. Why do you think He gave it to you? Please don’t look around at what someone else is doing. Please don’t be jealous or wish for their gift. Please know this……you’re enough. What God has given you wasn’t meant to be compared to anything else. There is no best gift. There’s only your gift and my gift. And I’ll cheer when you open yours and you can cheer when I open mine. Cause after all, if you don’t use it, it’s just the gift that wasn’t.
2 Comments
Flying through the air on a skinny metal cable wasn’t the scary part, it was trying to decide when to put my gloved hand on the cable behind the pulley to start slowing myself down so I wouldn’t crash into the nice people standing on the platform waiting for me to come in with a soft landing. I totally panicked and did what they told me NOT to do in Zip Lining 101---never put your hand in FRONT of the pulley on the cable or you might just crush your fingers. Thankfully, it was the first zip line of the day and it wasn’t structured to cover that much distance or to go too fast, so even though I “braked” incorrectly, I did slow down and come into the landing pad fairly easy and I didn’t crush my fingers! And of course, it helped that my bestie and “partner in crime”, Kris, was there to cheer me on. If you’re going to do something terrifyingly scary, make sure you do it with a friend. It always heightens the fun when you can both scream together!! The five minute training that morning started with the nice Guides showing us the correct way to plug and unplug the ropes around our body with a convenient hook-thing that you were supposed to attach to the continuous metal cable that was going to take you around trees and over bridges through the zip line course. It all looked pretty sturdy to me. A safety harness around my waist, a lightweight but durable hardhat on my head and gloves to help me hold the pulley and guide it on the cable. This was going to be a breeze. And then we had to go across the parking lot on this crazy swinging bridge to get to the first zip line and I thought I was going to quit then and there. It was a breezy morning and as the bridge started swinging I thought I was going to lose every bit of my morning energy “breakfast for champions” right then and there. “If I can’t even walk across this bridge, what makes me think I can zip line for a half mile through the trees?” My brain began to yell all kinds of crazy things! “Get out of here!” “What are you doing? You don’t even like looking down a flight of steps!” “Your bike at the gym doesn’t leave the room and you think you’re gonna fly over water?” All the while my friend Kris is smiling from beneath her big white helmet and saying “Isn’t this AWESOME?” It had been her idea that we needed to something adventurous to celebrate our birthdays and of course I was going to go along cause I’m so brave and all. But now there was this young guy who looked a little like he would be the kind to jump out of a hotel window into a hotel pool three floors below if given the chance….telling me to just be sure and keep my hand on the pulley and to fold my feet underneath me and if I felt myself starting to spin while in flight, I could just “go with it” and do a 360 up in the air. Right. Not happening. Not in this lifetime. Before I knew it, I was indeed flying through the air and holding tightly to my pulley and turning it to the right and back to the left, whatever would keep me facing FORWARD, and saying “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!” when I felt myself trying to spin. Then my feet would touch the blessed solid earth and the guide would say “good landing” and I would believe him and think that I must have missed my calling for surely I was made to be a professional zip liner person. Slowly and surely throughout the day, the zip lines got higher and higher. We faced more swinging bridges and walked across really thin pieces of wood, and once in a while the Guides would think it was really funny to make the bridges swing if the wind didn’t seem to be doing the trick. I think they noticed my particular fear of that cause it always seemed to happen right when I was in the middle of crossing the bridge. Let me stop and ask, can you even call it a bridge when you’re walking on what appears to be a very long handle of a broom strung 500 feet apart between two trees? Anyway, I showed them. I just stopped walking. That’s right, if you guys want to get to your lunch break you better stop messing with this lady. After every course, Kris and I would congratulate each other on how well we were doing. Neither of us had actually puked up our breakfast. We hadn’t chickened out and had to call for the four wheeler of shame to come and get us. We were actually DOING this zip lining thing! And you know what? I believed I could do it cause my friend believed I could. She didn’t doubt me for a second. And she knew that if I did get a little queasy at the thought of stepping off a nice safe platform into thin air with nothing under my feet a warm afternoon breeze, she would be right there to cheer me on. Just like I did for her when she decided to do something I couldn’t bring myself to do….the FREE FALL jump. This was the last part of the day. A chance to just free fall from a tower. You’d be wearing a nice safe harness that would slow you down at just the right time before you CRASHED INTO SMITHEREENS at the bottom. Um, no thank you. But Kris wanted to do it. So I was gonna cheer that girl on! It took her a few tries. She walked to the edge and looked down and I said “you can do it” as I held onto the railing. She backed away from the edge and was unsure. “Come on friend, the first step is always the hardest.” Of course the first step is all you get and then you fall. She walked away again and said “I don’t know.” I told her I KNEW she could do it. She came all this way to finish this course and she just HAD to do it. And that’s just what she did. She went to the edge and jumped. I have the video to prove it. It still makes me sick to my stomach. But she did it and I like to think I helped her a little. We all need friends like that. They push us to the edge. They help us jump. They show us we can really fly when we want too. Kris and I are on a venture of another kind right now, along with some other friends. We had this crazy idea that I know God put in our hearts. This idea of opening a home for women who have suffered from addictions and want to be free—want to be whole again---want to go back to their families they’ve distanced themselves from---want to be able to live the life God has called them too. And we’re all in. And you have to surround yourself with those believing friends. The ones who dream big; who love adventure. The ones who aren’t busy counting the cost, they just want to live BIG for God. After all, when God puts the safety harness on you and steers you in the direction of the trees, you just have to go. Standing in front of our Sunday school class, Jay shared a moment that changed his life. A stranger in the park, a little girl in a wheelchair, would be the catalyst to shake him out years of anger and frustration. If Jay Platt’s story were up on the big screen, and you went to see it, you’d be sitting in the theatre watching the events unfold and probably get angry right along with him. Jay knew early on what he wanted to do with his life. He wanted to be a United States Marine. And at 17 years of age, that’s exactly what he did. He enlisted in the Marine Corps. He did everything with excellence. It was the way Jay was wired. Every task at hand was a task to be performed to the best of his ability and more. It wasn’t enough to give 100%; the goal was at least 110%!! During his career he trained recruits as a Drill Instructor, led Marines as a Platoon Sergeant, taught survival skills as a Marine Combat Instructor of Water Survival, and developed Marine leaders as a Marine Corps University Instructor and Advisor. He taught recruits how to be a Marine. He taught people how to be winners. He believed you could overcome any obstacle that was thrown into your path. There wasn’t a challenge that would ever come his way that Jay wouldn’t conquer. There would be a challenge that would end his Marine career too early though. Cancer. Jay was diagnosed with a cancer syndrome called von Hippel Lindau (VHL). Early on, it would cause him to lose his left eye. Over the years of battling VHL, he would go on to survive four brain tumors and kidney cancer on both kidneys. Jay told our Sunday school class that he just couldn’t imagine not serving as a Marine. Everything he loved was being taken from him. What was left if he couldn’t do what he’d dreamed of doing since he was 10? Jay recalled the surgery to remove his eye. He said he had heard all the stories of people going in the hospital to have a leg or arm amputated and waking up to discover they’d taken off the wrong limb. What if that happened to him? What if they took his right eye, which was the “right” one to keep? He would be blind! He said when talking to the doctors he always said be sure and take the “correct” eye!! Three weeks later he was staring in the mirror, trying to work up the courage to remove the bandages from his face. This brave man who pledged to serve his Nation, defending it against any foe, willing to sacrifice his life to do it, was now facing one of the biggest enemies of his life. I’ll just stop here and say what we’re all thinking…..Cancer sucks! I was reading “The Broken Way” by Ann Voskamp and she wrote about a discussion she had with a cancer patient who’d told her that her doctor had once said that “the cells that only benefit themselves, are cancer cells”. That makes sense. Of course cancer cells are totally selfish! They bombard the body only to try and destroy it. Jay was not going to let it beat him but he had some huge battles to fight and one of them was with himself as he looked at his new reflection in the mirror, a face with a big, empty black hole where his eye used to be. “Monster” was one of the first words that came to mind. He felt totally disfigured. Can you imagine? So much of who we are is wrapped up in our image. For better or worse we are constantly looking in the mirror and judging ourselves by what we see. Some days we might feel pretty good about the face looking back, other days might not be so great. But what do you do when someone cuts part of your face away? Maybe it was natural to grieve. But Jay said he just grew angrier and more withdrawn. He shut people out. He cut himself off from relationships. He was depressed and lost and unsure of who he was. One day a thought occurred to him……”go to the park.” He said he wasn’t sure why, he just felt impressed to do it. You know those kind of thoughts when they come. “I wonder what so and so is doing? I should call her.” “I wonder if so and so ever got that Bible. I should pick one up.” “I wonder if so and so has been out for lunch lately? I should text her.” Maybe you do. Maybe you don’t. I think you’ll find you learn a lot from following that still small voice you’re hearing. Jay went to the park. Grumpy. Still mad at God. Still angry. Still lost. He saw them out of the corner of his eye; a woman pushing a little girl in a wheelchair. Her hands were all twisted up from some cruel disease. He began to pity the little girl for a moment when he saw her lift her head and say, “oh Mom, LISTEN, LISTEN TO THE BIRDS!” There was such rapture, such joy, such pure delight in her voice, just from hearing the birds sing. He told us, with tears in his eyes, “I couldn’t remember the last time I had listened to the birds sing.” You could have heard a pin drop in our class. Everyone was right there with him in that moment, many with tears in their own eyes now. Jay realized he had been so intent on his own anger that he let is shade his whole world. His world was one of complete darkness, even though he had one good eye. And in that moment in the park, when God allowed him to see pure joy, he knew that he wanted nothing less for his life. He was tired of spinning in the circle of self-pity, it was time to move forward. He left the park that day a different man. The circumstances hadn’t changed. He still had VHL syndrome. He was still without an eye. He was still a retired Marine. But hearing the song of the birds reminded him that in this world of cares and strife there can always be a song. Not just a song we sing in church or in our car, but the song we live out with our lives. And someone is waiting to hear it. Maybe someone on a path who feels all alone. Someone who wonders if God even knows or cares if they are alive. Someone who wonders if they’ll ever be able to sing again. Maybe, just maybe, if they hear your song, they’ll join in. Jay would tell you it’s not been easy. Jay has continued to face some battles as a result of VHL. But as Jay stood in front of our Sunday school class, the Spirit of the Lord was so present. Jay brought his private battle song of victory to us that day. Part of the verses may have included some chords of sadness and despair, but when he got to the chorus it SOARED and was JOYOUS. I’m so thankful Jay went to the park that day. And for the little girl who listened to birds. |
AuthorHi! I am Donna and I'm traveling. It's a journey to discover who I am in Christ every day....no looking back, face to the Son! Come join me! Archives
October 2017
Categories |