because everyone is made to do something

I am not a shout it from the rooftops type of person.  Moments of excitement, frustration, elation, or anger, I'm just not going to proclaim it from on high.  I am a one-on-one, talk it out, text message as long as you need to, chat on the phone in bed, hug and hold your hand kind of person.  And it's taken awhile to understand that that is ok, it's better than ok, it's needed.

6ish years ago, I struggled mightily with this personality trait.  Zach and I were going through our thing and on the road to recovery, and the subject of Joy was plaguing me.  However, not in the way you would assume.  God, in all his infinite wisdom, restored what was broken, restored so much of what was broken, not just with us, but in me.  In my 32 years on the earth I had never once truly understood what that love felt like.  After 25 years of being a believer, one situation brought the clarity, the brilliance, the overwhelming sensation of that all-encompassing love.  No, finding Joy was definitely not the problem, I just hated myself for how I showed it.

I wanted to be a non-stop smiling and laughing portrait of God's redeeming grace.  I wanted to have that skin-glowing, breezy, open-mouth, laughing, non-stop grin.  Apparently, I wanted to be an actress in a toothpaste commercial.  But no matter how much I wanted it, it didn't happen, and that began to hurt.  I began to doubt the Joy (joy, joy, joy down in my heart), because it didn't manifest in the way I thought it was supposed to.  I began to think that because my joy looked differently than another's, then it wasn't real, and what I thought I had found was really not there.  What else had I been wrong about?  Was the forgiveness real?  Was the love?  Was the peace?

I wallowed in this extensively before I remembered my new policy on hidden feelings: say them out loud!  So finally, I said them out loud to my pastor and friend.  The response did not include a list of ways to be more joyful, or an admonishment for lacking joy or for doubting it was there.  The response was instead a question, "Before all of this, did you show joy in the way you're wanting to?"  Well, no, that's never really been me.  The conversation went on to unpack it all a little further, but the gist is this.  I was wanting God to miraculously turn me into a new person, when what He was really doing was making me more me.  And that me can now listen better in those one-on-ones, give a littler wiser words when we talk it out, can shed tears of empathy in chats on the phone, and can pray from a deeper, more understanding place, as the text messages fly back and forth.

That was years ago, and now there's a new situation I am facing, WE are facing.  Our country finds itself with old wounds opening up.  Sin that has been festering underneath, bubbling over quite violently to the surface.  A band-aid will not suffice, and even though nothing evil will never truly be eradicated this side of heaven until our Savior returns, it is our turn, our generation's turn to stand up and stand with and stand against.  But with the rising tides of racism becoming so blatant, so public, so in our faces that we no longer have the luxury to hide behind our seemingly peaceful, diverse existence, here comes that once familiar feeling.  I struggle to know what to do, because again, I am still not a shout it from the rooftops type of person.  In moments of excitement, frustration, elation, or anger, I will not be the one to grab the bullhorn, to make the speech, to stand before the crowd and lead them.  But I remember again, that God is not trying to change me into a completely different person, He is just making me more of the me He created me to be.

Every character of the bible who went through a radical change still stayed beautifully the same, containing the core God had built inside of them.  Saul who spoke out and taught and vehemently sought out believers to bring them down became Paul who spoke out and taught and lovingly chased after Gentiles to raise them up.  Ruth who obediently served her husband and family in Moab was spurred on by a different love as she served and loved her mother in law and then her husband Boaz all while in a new land.  Peter who spoke from emotion, leapt before he looked, and passionately defended his Lord with a sword led the church with the same vigor, but this time with the Word of God and the life of Christ doing the defending.

So here I am, maybe not yelling from a rooftop, but pleading from my porch.  Here I am, probably not on the list for holding a bullhorn at the front of the stage, but ready to hold the hand of the one hurting next to me.  Here I am, with no experience of what it's like to be thought of as less than because of the color of my skin, but able to pour out tears for someone who needs to know through our chats or texts, for themselves or for the ways they look at another, that God made each of us with intention and nothing about us negates that, but everything about us causes that to flourish, because we, each one of us, are anything but insignificant.

You will hear this call for a variety of issues, but adoption is the first to come to mind.  Everyone is not made to adopt, but everyone is made to do something.  Everyone is not made to [fill in the blank], but everyone is made to do something.

Friend, you were made to do something.  God put you here, on this earth, with a unique blend of skills, personality, family, friends, and influence.  He sent His Son, and that Son left His Spirit, and that Spirit dwells in us, to spur us on, to point us in His ways, not our own.  I know many a bullhorn person, how are you using your voice?  I know many a social butterfly, how are you using your wings?  I know many with a quiet, compassionate heart, how are you showing comfort?

Lord, God, we have all fallen short, but, if we are yours, we are also being made new, our inner dispositions ever changing to be more like Christ.  Help us to see who you have made us, and how we are to be the us you made us to be in your kingdom.

I'm praying for you friend, pray for me.