I spoke this weekend and it was hard.
It was hard because I brought Cohen along, and even though my amazing husband was there to help, I still felt distracted by nursing, naps and diaper-changing.
It was hard because after the first and second sessions I felt like I just wasn’t connecting, like maybe I’d lost my gift for speaking, or I was the wrong person for the job.
It was hard because I was afraid. Afraid that what I had to offer just wasn’t good enough. Ever been there?
But after the second session I reminded myself of a lesson I learned early on in my speaking ministry: Speaking is my act of worship to God. It’s not about how hard the kids laugh, or how many tears they cry. It’s about my heart, and bringing myself as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to the Lord.
It’s about willingness and availability to be used by God.
Maybe you’re not a speaker, but each one of us has gifts, talents and passions we use everyday. Are you ever afraid to use these gifts? Afraid that maybe you aren’t good enough? Like maybe someone else should be doing the job you’re doing?
May I challenge you to readjust your perspective?
Do what you do as worship. After you finish whatever it is you do, offer it up as an act of worship to the Lord. He doesn’t judge you the way the world does.
He looks at your heart.
When I finally got my heart right and reminded myself who I was speaking for, things changed. The Saturday night session was absolutely amazing. The Holy Spirit spoke through me and those listening responded to Him. By the end of our hour together, a room full of teenagers and young adults stood, hands raised, inviting the Holy Spirit to fill them. And as I stood off to the side, listening to our voices join in passionate worship to the Lord, my fears disappeared.
After the session I had the chance to pray with many of the campers and it was evident that God showed up in a powerful way.
He always does when we step out in faith, over fear.
“You block your dream when you allow your fear to grow bigger than your faith.” – Mary Manin Morrissey