I live in a place where the flick of a switch gives me light and the twist of a handle gives me clean water.
I live in a world of convenience, packaged with lots of margin.
As a little girl, I went to church happily on Sundays, with parents who loved God and never worried about reading me Bible stories next to an open window.
As a school girl, I went to kindergarten on the government’s dime, completely expecting to earn a diploma–which I did.
After graduation, I went to college, traveled, read, and listened to pastors, speakers, and apologists. I learned to think. I learned to see. I learned to contrast the ugliness of sin with the piercing purity of God’s Word.
As a young adult, I was deeply stirred to change the world. I was idealistic and strong. I had answers and deep hope in God.
As a young teacher, I gained a husband who loved me, loved God, and became my partner in life. Together, we were sure we could change the world.
When our babies were born, we learned that we were selfish and weak, and had far less control than we thought. We felt like children, ourselves–thankful for a Father who doesn’t give us everything we ask for, and who gave us each other to hammer out the sharp edges in our hearts.
When our kids were little, I spent my specks of free time writing; blending hope with struggle. When my thoughts were published in magazines, my confidence emerged. I smiled widely at new opportunities to write and speak.
When the internet began replacing ink, I found that my words could travel further. I started a blog and loved making new friends. I shared Jesus in stories about simple life.
After my last child began riding the bus, my husband smiled on my plans to use a quiet house and a little laptop to reach out to the world. He never made me feel as though the hours spent arranging words were wasted.
Then social media arrived on our planet and changed life as we knew it. I had new ways to connect with people and share hope and truth.
Now that my kids have grown taller than me, I see life’s preciousness and precariousness with new clarity. I’ve had twenty-five years of adulthood to watch the fingers of sin and corruption spread into the lives of people I know and love. I hate the devastation. I long for light to triumph over darkness. I have even more urgency to spread hope and truth.
And now I see that it was all selected for me, by God. This era. This nation. This family background. This education. This husband. This creativity. This passion. And this tool–a screen facing people across town and across the world. It’s all from Him!
I would be wrong to shrink back, pinned by feelings of inadequacy. I would be wrong to let distractions keep me from my calling. I would be wrong to allow fear to steal my passion. God is the one who put the pen in my hand and the words on my tongue! If I stop speaking and writing, words of hope for God’s people will arise from another place. And who knows but that God has placed me before this laptop, and before each microphone I face, for such a time as this?
So here I am, Lord. Send me. Send me!