A Reminder

ImageI could tell my eldest daughter, after spending some time with some close girlfriends, was trying to replicate the girlfriends’ particular God-given gifts and talents. I could see her heart wandering and I could understand how she felt. Sometimes in my own life, even after the extensive sermon series on the gifts of the Holy Spirit, I’ve thrown my hands up and say, “What AM I used for any way?”My daughter has many talents and gifts, as does any child of God, and some will make themselves known later in life as she matures and learns about God and her identity within the Body. She obviously needed a reminder to be herself, which is natural and needed, rather than try to force herself into a role that just didn’t fit.
I sat on her bedroom floor, having to interrupt the blaring iPod music as she pretended to be a rock star. I remember those days well. I remember the hairbrush being used as a microphone and stuffed animals positioned as the spell-bound audience. I would stand in front of the mirror and screech loudly to the music. The room, hairbrush, and animals disappeared. Suddenly I was on stage in front of awed fans. I was amazing! I was awe-inspiring! I was something to be desired… that is… until my mother, frustrated with how many times she’d already asked me to turn down the CD player burst through the room, yank the cord out of the player, and march out of the room seeming to scream, “There!” without saying a word.
For some reason I never became that rock star. Maybe it was because my screeching never morphed itself into singing. Maybe it’s because the LORD knows my heart. He knows I fight the urge for acknowledgement and appreciation. Maybe He knows I become too dependent on human adoration rather than a Savior’s overflowing love.
I sat in front of my nine year old, who seems to be reliving my childhood dreams, and I reminded her of how beautiful she is with the talents and gifting God has given her. Her girlfriends are wonderful. But she is wonderful too. Different gifts, but same God. Beautiful gifts, and beautiful God.
And here’s where the honesty of a child refreshes my “you’re not supposed to say that out loud” adult mind. After I remind her of own strengths she begins to look distressed. She shakes her head emphatically and cries, “But I don’t WANT that gift!”
No lightening bolt hit her from above. No mother shook her head with disapproval at her lack of faith. I wanted to say, “I know. I feel that way sometimes too.”
Why are we given the gifts we are given? It seems God, in His grace and wisdom, protects us from ourselves. An approval seeking soul such as myself is not given gifts that provide me with large crowds standing at approval and applause.
Instead, I am put in a quiet position of facilitating other’s words. I write when the Spirit leads, but sometimes it’s weeks I’m left wondering why the gift of writing doesn’t flow easier, daily, perfectly? Is it because I’m doing something wrong in my walk. Am I not listening? Am I not getting an A+ in Christianity 101? No. It’s because He’s beautiful. And His timing is beautiful. And I am left worshiping Him in His perfection for giving me a gift that leaves me in utter need of His constant filling.
One day, hopefully sooner than later, my daughter will fully embrace her call within the Kingdom. She will be challenged and blessed, empty one day and overflowing the next. One day, I pray, she runs her race with eyes fixed on the prize of her Savior rather than the peeking to the other runners.
Be reminded, as I was, that the LORD has done a beautiful thing in giving each one of us the perfect gift of us. We need not seek any other or anything other than the Savior.

2 thoughts on “A Reminder

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s