I’ve been a little frustrated the last few days. Okay, the last few months. Frustrated that I’m not living to my full potential. Frustrated that I’m missing out. It’s been a common theme. In high school I was the girl that every one liked, and no one remembered to invite to the party. I had friends in all different circles, and on Monday morning it would be the same thing- “Why weren’t you at…”. It was frustrating. And I feel like I’m in the same place now, only in the writing world. I seem to always just miss things. Just miss a link up. Just miss a conference. Just miss a Twitter party or a lit review. Just miss the friendships-lagging out on the sidelines. Jumping in at the last minute.
And my writing? Well it’s not where I want it either. Not where I thought it could be. I don’t have a lot of followers. I don’t have many likes or comments on my work. I wasn’t picked for the blog jobs or the speaker spots. And the books? Not getting the notice I had hoped for. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I expected to be famous, but I look around at all the other writers I see and I feel like I did back in high school-on the outside looking in. This morning I was thinking about my post for today and the only title I could think of was “When all seems lost.” But I had nothing beyond that. So in a sigh I set aside the computer and started another search for potential churches. If you’ve visited here before, you’ll know that since the move we’ve been looking for a place to call our worship home. I hate it. Church shopping sucks.
But there’s one we’ve looked at and mulled over and on a whim we decided to give it a shot. Boy am I glad we did. Holy Hannah, it was GOOD. I’m not talking just a sermon that gives you the warm fuzzies, I’m talking a pastor who is real and down to earth and asks for forgiveness for a misstep he took. No really, like he got in front of the congregation, said something he did that was wrong, and asked for forgiveness. Brave? Uh huh. Even more so-humble. When I took the kids to children’s church, the girl showing me the ropes was seriously about the sweetest thing I’ve ever met. She had a light inside her that didn’t dim. And as I rocked the babe in the cry room, listening to the sermon from this man who had repented and asked forgiveness of his people, I cried. Messy tears-kids. Because he reminded me that this whole thing-it’s not about me.
He called us mammas who stand in the trenches of dirty diapers and climbing toddlers rock-stars in the Hall of Fame of Heaven. He called us who go to work each day and live our life in Jesus names, blessed. He reinforced that each one of us-no matter our job or title or the amount in our bank account-we’re each just as worthy to Christ, because he calls us his own. At one point he pulled up this quote from A. W. Tozer:
|Photo by Bob Hall|