Almost weekly, as I play piano and sing with our worship
team, I am reminded why I need to step up, and into, all that God has called me
to be, and that if I pull back, if I shy away, there will be an effect. Not a huge, life-altering effect, mind
you…but an effect none the less. My
life…and yours…speaks a message. We may,
or may not, know who we are ‘speaking’ to.
I know one person my life is speaking to.
Not because she tells me, but because nearly every week, as
I’m worshiping, I glance out, and am grabbed by her watching gaze. I feel very aware that as I speak forth words
of encouragement, or pray, or give myself to abandoned praise, there is a set
of the the biggest, bluest eyes fixed on me, taking in my words, my
actions. I sometimes am gripped by the
sense that she is a little girl, who, unlike myself, is growing up seeing women
all around her respond to their God-given call to lovingly co-reign with men in
the Kingdom of God.
Seeing women who, yes, give birth and cook and clean…but also create,
debate and preach. We are not only
the women who meet for “Ladies’ Bible Study”, but who also
wrestle the word of God with the men, and deliver it to the congregation of
brothers and sisters with equal authority and passion. We are living this concept of co-heirs to a
next generation in ways that previously were not familiar to me.
And these eyes…these big blueberry eyes…watch, I imagine,
with thoughts of how God will use her.
Where she will one-day take her place in ministry to the Body of
Christ. Will she teach? Will she sing? Will she intercede? Will she minister to the physical needs of
someone hurting?
Of course, I know that my life actually speaks to many, on
different levels, as all our lives do.
My life speaks to my own children, but to my chagrin, they see the
convoluted, struggling side of my journey.
They hear my pleas of “can we just not mention to _____ that I am a
pastor, pleeeease??”. They see me pull
back from conversations where I think my input is not necessarily
welcomed. They see me in my moments of
brokenness and frustration. And I do realize,
all these things will form…for the good or the bad…some parts of them. I pray often that God’s grace will cover my
shortcomings in these areas. That he
will use my weakness to bring strength to them in some way. They see me in the messy, everydayness of
life.
But the little blonde with the blueberry eyes…she sees me a
bit differently, I think.
I have to add, this little one and I also share a connection
of ‘difference'. She, the only
blonde among brunette sisters, same as I (she knows this, because her beautiful
mama is my sister…so I tell her she gets her light locks from me). She, the only softball player among
cheerleader sisters, knows about my own passion for baseball. I hope
that maybe she senses from me that it’s okay to like things that might not be
considered 150% girlie…the same way I feel about my interest in theological
discussions and debates. She, I think,
if I don’t chicken-out, can learn from me that it’s okay to wear pink and still
show up to the “boys' club”.
And somehow, though I don’t know if she will ever preach or
teach, or if her giftings lie elsewhere, she can learn from me to give yourself
to whatever
God calls you to, even if it’s a little bit different, with wholehearted
passion…but only if I don’t pull back, shy away or give up.
Courage. Not just for
me, but also for those little blueberry eyes watching me. You see, the things God calls us to are
rarely just for us. There’s always those
coming behind. Always someone else
drinking in the message of our lives.
Who’s coming behind, and what are watching eyes learning
from you?
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