The first moment I sit to write is consistently fearful. Every insecurity I posses bubbles up to break the surface, building to a rolling boil. Leaving me paralyzed, staring at a blank page with the blinking cursor taunting me, beating out my doubts.
What if the words won’t come?
My idea isn’t worth writing.
No one is going to read this anyway.
What will people think?
Someone has already said this better than I could.
I am a college drop out, stay at home mom. Who cares what I have to say?
So I pray, “Lord, if you don’t give me the words then I have nothing to say.” Sometimes it’s a desperate plea: oh please, oh please, give me something. Sometimes it’s a challenge: well if you’ve got nothing for me I’ll just get back to my book, thanks… And other times it is actually a request to bless: I think this idea is good, but without Your direction it doesn’t matter.
I tell you all this to help you understand the weight of what I really want to tell you. I want you to know that even if we never meet face to face for me to tell you, that if you have formed some sort of preconceived notion of me from across the internet as having all the answers, this writing stuff is blissfully agonizing for me. I need you to know that for all the times the words flow and the keyboard clickity-clicks a soothing rhythm that there are also times I sit panicked, assaulted by the unending blinking of the cursor.
What I really want to tell you is that the most common Jewish male name in the first century was Simon!
Ok, maybe not exactly what I want to tell you, but I’m working up to it.
Here’s the thing, the name Simon was the ancient equivalent of our using Michael or John for how common it was. Everyone knew someone named Simon.
I want you to know this so when you see in the gospels this guy named Simon you understand how thoroughly average he is, even down to his name. He didn’t have any higher education, but he did manage a small fishing business. He was just a thoroughly average guy living his average first century life.
And then Jesus becomes his best friend.
And everything changes. He stops fishing, he starts travelling, He begins an intense spiritual journey, he witnesses miracles, he preforms miracles, he sees Jesus transfigured talking with Moses and Elijah, has his feet washed by his rabbi, and his entirely average worldview is turned upside down.
Do you see what I see here? A thoroughly average guy who is transformed by walking with Jesus, who walks into the plans that were made for him before the foundations of the world were set. Jesus sees something in Simon that no one else, even Simon, could have seen. He calls him out of average to something new. Jesus calls him Peter and states a new extraordinary direction for his ordinary life. He does the same for you and me.
What I really want to tell you is that I don’t understand why I haven’t heard this before. Where is this study for thoroughly average me? Something that helps me to dig into this fisherman-apostle’s life that may be separated from mine by centuries but feels so familiar to my stay-at-home-mom-writer-shoe-store-employee experience.
I guess what I want to say, what the fear makes so very hard to just say it already!, is that I, average Aleah with no qualifications of my own to stand on, am working on writing that study. Because I am following Christ and this is apparently where He’s leading me even though I’ve been trying to explain to Him why I’m so unqualified for the task. He is calling out someone from within me that I am still getting to know and slowly learning to trust.
What I want to ask is that you pray for me friends. The cursor still punches out my insecurities with every pulse weakening my resolve and leaving me feeling vulnerable. Pray that the One who has seen this thing in me would give me the strength to fight. That I would step boldly out into the deep waters of this calling teeming with the unknown and find them to be a firm place for my steps. That no matter what I would keep my eyes focused on His.
For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God… for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control. –2 Timothy 1:6a, 7
This made me cry. Good, wonderful, encouraging, life-tears. Love you friend, and so grateful that you are stepping out of the boat.
Aleah, I love this! It’s amazing to think about how random nobodies can be chosen for amazing things – and you definitely make me feel proud to be a random nobody like you! 🙂
You can do it! You’ll be in my prayers!
Thanks Jessica! I love watching Him using you from over here across Internet-land. I appreciate your prayers (A LOT).
My heart leapt into my throat when I read this line, Aleah: “And then Jesus becomes his best friend.”
What is more amazing than that? And you captured it perfectly in the words of this post. don’t let anyone ever tell you that you can’t string words together, kiddo. You can.