The other day in church I was writing to God, talking to Him about what to do with my free time. I personally enjoyed doing nothing and just relaxing in my free time (of which I had a lot). For a moment or two I sat in silence, just thinking. Then, as if something had grabbed tight onto my heart, I felt convicted.
“You have been sitting for way too long. It’s time you started doing what I brought you here to do.” Something said to my heart.
God was telling me to get moving…I had been spiritually idle for far too long, being a subtle Christian, a watered-down Christian. God wanted more from me. But what?
Then it hit me like a ton of bricks; I needed to start an on campus bible study. I realize this is kind of specific, but the thought had fluttered through my brain once or twice before I came to Pratt.
“How am I going to do that?” I wondered.
“You’ve been studying Exodus….start there. I will give you the words.”
“You’re serious about this? You want me to do this? Why not let someone like Charlene or another Christian girl on campus do it? Surely they’re better qualified.” I argued.
“I will give you the words.” The repetition made my heart shake.
“But, Lord; I barely made it through last week. I’m an emotional nutcase who thinks the entire world is out to get her. I cry over a single criticism. I can hardly make it through the day without feeling discouraged or hopeless even when that day has been good. I’m a wreck!” I opposed.
“I. Will. Give. You. The. Words.” Each word sounded clear as a bell in my soul, and I knew what I had to do once I got back to my dorm.
I sat down with my notebook and my bible, my heart open for the first time in a very long time, and wrote down everything I felt led to write down. Then I typed up some “homework” for further study of the lesson. As I typed, tears began to roll down my face.
See, I’m crying over nothing.
But then I realized I wasn’t crying over nothing…the fact that I was doing this, preparing to share God’s word with other girls on campus, made me realize why God brought me here. Though I still didn’t believe I was the most qualified, I persisted.
I finished the homework and the lesson, even expounding, editing, re-reading, reading out loud, and revising. I felt good about it; I realized how much more fulfilling it was to write what I had just written than to write a novel.
“So, what does that mean? I’m not supposed to be a novelist? But that’s what I came here for.” I worried out loud. God didn’t answer this time…but, honestly, I don’t think He needed to.
Today I had the first challenge of my faith take place. It was by a professor; he was very polite about it and very respectful, and for the first time since forever, so was I. I did not cry or get upset; I did not feel threatened; I did not even feel nervous or tense. God was answering for me, and I did nothing.
It was the first time I ever felt good after defending my faith; it was also the first time I saw that someone didn’t get frustrated with me while challenging my faith.
What is happening to me?