It takes time to come to that vulnerable and often cracked place that asks, What am I to do? What are my gifts? And it’s especially hard to ask them in the presence of others.
But when you’re thrust into an especially generous, abundantly encouraging group of people, it’s salve, and opening that place becomes simpler.
Yesterday at church, Randall gave me a kind, Randall-sized hug, and told me he was proud of me in his kind, Randall-way.
Later in Sunday School, he brought my tiny celebration to the whole room, and I awkwardly tried to explain my role in Listen To Your Mother before Travis helped me explain.
“Well, we’ll be gettin’ tickets, and if there are enough of us, I’ll drive the church bus,” he said, matter-of-factly (this is just the thing I love about Randall– he just IS).
And in the quiet moments after, when David spoke our hearts’ prayers out loud to the air of heaven that was in that room, he prayed for me, listing my gifts, thanking God for the things He’s called and continues to call out of me.
And I couldn’t believe it there, still can’t believe it today, the way others call these things out of me, and I just let them slip out and mold me, the whole time with child-doe-eyes.
I suppose it’s just another kind mystery of God and His Church, our ability to notice and then help cultivate the things we’re each carefully wired to do.
But there are two dangers in the cultivation, two ways we starve out the roots of the gifts before they have space to nourish and bloom.
First, I can “humble myself” so low down that I actually reject the gifts, and cripple myself from being used to give life to the Church.
Or, I can take the gifts and run, and run so high up my own mountain that all that’s left at the top is lonely little me with no room for anyone else. There, the gifts are useless.
So, as in many things, we choose moderation.
We accept, with child-hearts, the kindness of the Father, and we walk in what He calls us to.
And when we sit in the quiet stillness of prayer and hear our gifts voiced, we say, Thank you, thank you, and tether me tighter to you, still.
Find quiet space and ask yourself, ask the air of Heaven, who you’re called to be.
Let’s walk in it together.