People tell me I’m a slow talker. Whether it’s because of my southern roots or because I’m constantly thinking about what I say before I say it, my words don’t come spewing out at breakneck speed.
Most days I’m okay with it. But every now and then, I wish I could turn off my brain and just speak. I know, that doesn’t make any sense but you get the picture. I want words to flow without thought of how they sound, whether my audience is understanding me or whether they’re offended by I’m saying.
A couple of years ago I attended my first writers’ conference and when people learned I was working on a book, the typical next question was, “What’s it about?” It was a question I both loved and loathed at the same time, but it was good practice for me. Explaining my heart’s desire to women I barely knew stretched me and forced me to get outside my head.
But part of me longed to run to my hotel room and slam the door. I felt unqualified. I was overwhelmed by the audacity of what the Lord was asking me to do: to open myself up and share a vulnerable message others could both understand and relate to. I looked around me at writers who had huge platforms, thousands of followers and fans and wondered what I was doing there.
In all my insecurity, I forgot about the truth the Lord spoke to me months earlier. He didn’t call me because I was qualified.
He didn’t choose me because of my impressive resume or my list of credentials. He chose me because I had a willing heart. A heart that longed to share the message he’d given me with other women who struggled with fear of never being enough or feeling confident in their roles as wife, mother, friend and follower of Christ.
Recently I was having another episode of anxiety over something I felt strongly the Lord was calling me to do. He brought me to the story of Moses’ call to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. When the Lord told Moses what he wanted him to do, he protested. A lot.
Moses pleaded with the Lord, “O Lord, I’m not very good with words. I never have been, and I’m not now, even though you have spoken to me. I get tongue-tied, and my words get tangled.
Exodus 4:10 NLT
Moses was full of excuses and reasons why he couldn’t do what the Lord was asking him to do. But for every protest, the Lord assured him it wasn’t his strength or ability that the Israelites would need. It was the Lord’s.
It wasn’t Moses’ job to provide the miracle. He was simply a vessel for the Lord to show his power.
Often when I’m trying to follow the path the Lord has set before me, I become preoccupied with figuring out steps two, three and four when he’s only asked me to take step one. After I take step one, he shows me what he wants me to do next. But I can’t take those next steps if I’m in a frozen state, trying to see what’s ahead.
Sometimes we have to take that first step of faith before we see the next one the Lord has already set before us.
And the more we walk, we see how we don’t need to have the entire blueprint of God’s plan in front of us. We don’t have to boast a long set of credentials or an impressive resume with all the right skills.
We simply have to put one foot in front of the other.