She writes, she speaks and it is halting with rough edges but it makes her blood run fast and her heart beat a new rhythm. The pains of this world are real and she’s choked if they’re not typed onto a screen. She suffocates if they’re not shared. Where to go and grow with this raw gift and heart’s desire?
My first opportunity to speak, high school. Asked to give my testimony, I batted around ideas for weeks, it was the night before the event when I knew what I had to say. They were words spoken through me as I stood on the pitcher’s mound squeaking into a microphone. Blood pumped loud in my ears and I spoke way too fast. I wondered when the crisp, fall day warmed so, as I dripped sweat in my blazer and boots, dressed to dash to work at the completion of my speech.
It would be as much as a week later when I would learn how God used sweaty, squeaky me to affect a life. She sat in bleachers on that sunny day. I don’t know how she came to be there. I never learned her name. It was a youth conference. I’m sure she expected youth related discussion, I doubt she expected to hear a voice from the Lord on her struggle whether to birth the life growing inside her. I never got to meet her. I only saw the face of one who loved her, I heard the joy, as tears streamed down, because she chose life. God met her there. I got to be a conduit.
Therein lies the passion. To be a conduit. A bent, warped wire that plugs into God. My God, the one who saved me and likes to use my broken, messy life to electrify folks around me. He can take my rough edges, sweaty palms and stuttering ums and act like a defibrillator to damaged, wounded and failing hearts. It’s God’s version of Economics in the sin world. All that is sinful of me shared to bring His glory. I’ll do what He asks to be used for such eternal purposes.
The act of becoming ‘She Speaks’ or ‘She Writes’ seems simple, yet no passion worth pursuit happens without discipline, wisdom and knowledge. That’s why I am applying for a ‘She Speaks’ Cecil Murphy Conference Scholarship. I have a rugged gift of writing and inspiration. With the help of others, like Lysa Terkeurst, who are further along I’d like to hone and polish, make the most of gifts granted.