On writing, using our gifts, and making impressions

I haven't written here in a while, and there's a simple reason for it: uncertainty.

I don't know what to write about.

Oh, I have ideas. LOTS of them. In fact, nearly one-third of my blog is actually in draft form, waiting for me to hit the publish button. Waiting for me to get brave. Reminds me of something Hemingway once wrote,

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”

This is a vulnerable process. Partly because I agonize over words. I write, read, shorten, abbreviate, reread, and rewrite until my five minute story has taken nearly an hour to write. So I abstain, and wait for certainty. But certainty has withheld itself, and I begin to remember the story Jesus told in Matthew 25:14-30. A man gave each of three servants an amount of money (called talents in that day) to invest while he was away. When he returned, the first two had invested their talents, and had extra to return to the master. The third, being fearful, hid his talent and only returned the amount he had been given.

The same amount.

Nothing lost, but nothing gained either.

And I know it is no coincidence that money is translated with the word talent in that story, because often, our talents are harder to give than money. Money is easily distributed for many things, but time? That is a real gift that many overlook. Yet that is the essence of talent: it is an investment, not of means, but of our very selves.

My husband and I are Youth Leaders now. Have been for just a couple short months. Last week, I came in to see our group of young people woodburning onto slabs of smooth timber. I had been out that night with our girls, since they are attending a different youth group for younger kids.

What is this?

Ethan explained he had told the kids: Each of you has a gift, a talent, an ability. Your gifts are like a pen that you can use to make an impression on the world around you. What kind of mark will you make?

Just be, darling

In process

Dream

Leviathian, by one of our guys

I loved that.

And their work was beautiful, promising. Each of them had a beauty to be imparted, and it was my joy to witness that.

One day (sometimes I forget this) we will give an account to God for these lives we are now living. One day we will be called on to Account for our Abilities. What will we say? I was afraid? I hid what you gave me? I didn't know if it would succeed, so I chose to do nothing instead?

Yesterday morning, Jasmine shuffled into the kitchen. "Mom, I had a weird dream last night."

I was busy with breakfast, pulling out biscuits and stirring gravy on the stove, but I tuned in: Oh really? What was it?

There was this guy growing strawberries, and they were bigger than my hand! He was growing them in his yard, but it was fenced in. Lots of people wanted to eat them, but he wouldn't let them... she trailed off as we readied to set the table.

I didn't comment immediately, but I knew: I am that man.

I have fenced in my ideas, and refused to share because I haven't seen the Big Picture. I've wanted an assurance of success before investing anything, but that's not how things work. Sometimes, we have to bury those seeds in the dark, we have to risk failure, take that leap of faith, and trust that God will bring those talents to life. We have to trust that He will not allow our gift of time - our talents - to be wasted.

A couple weeks ago, I felt like the Lord asked me, What would happen if you started to say yes?

          Yes to tea parties at the nursing home?
    
         Yes to speaking at Freedom House, a halfway house for women?
   
         Yes to sending a sweet friend that care package you were thinking about?

         Yes to speaking engagements, encouraging others with your stories?

          Yes to hosting more get togethers, so friends can enjoy community and connection more?

In that moment, I realized I've said more yeses to the requests of others than I have to the things God has set in my heart, but I want that to change. I looked up the word courage afterward. In one place, I saw it meant the willingness to take action. That's what I need.

More courage, Lord!

So there you have it: me, laying it out in the open: I don't want to sit this race out. I don't want to cross the finish line with a bag of unused talents. So, you'll probably be hearing from me more around here. And hopefully, you'll be encouraged to start using the talents God has given you as well.


After all, the world needs the beauty you carry.