Serving Others and Commitment Issues

I tend to write about the weather a lot. Probably because I’m American and it’s the natural conversation starter; therefore, the natural blog post starter.

It’s been so cold and rainy lately. So cold. Where I come from (wherever that is) it’s supposed to be warm by the end of April. Not here. Minnesota is cramping my style. I’ve heard “April showers bring May flowers” and I understand that the rain is necessary so that new life can grow, but I’m tired of wearing layers of warm clothes. (There’s a good spiritual analogy there, but I won’t get into that today.)

Instead, I’ll confess: I am a rather non-committal person. There’s a backstory that sheds light about why I choose not to commit (again, I won’t get into that today). I always want an out so that I’m never “stuck” anywhere. I hate being stuck. I’ve lived a life full of abrupt movement – with friendships, with houses, with emotions. My spontaneity also largely contributes to poor commitment. I’d like to say it’s something I’m working on but in actuality I’ve come to a place of owning it and enjoying it. (This is actually bad; I should not be encouraging myself to be non-committal.)

So, believe it or not, I don’t love college. I’m here because I need a degree and if I have to go to college, Northwestern is where I want to be. It’s not the place (well, sometimes when it’s really cold the place is a contributing factor) it’s more college itself. That’s one bad thing about living abroad and taking time off from school: you have all these amazing experiences and opportunities and then you go to college and spend hours a day cramped in a tiny desk, taking notes, and remembering life in the real world.

Because of this, I’m always looking for a reason to leave….or a reason to stay. I’ve been here for a year and half, so by my clock it’s time to start packing up and heading to a new place. However, I don’t really have anywhere else to go. So I keep waiting for someone to give me a decent reason to stay here.

Today at church the pastor preached about serving others. Towards the end of his sermon he posed two questions: "What is it that God has uniquely given you? What would it look like for you to invest that in something larger/greater than yourself." We all have been given different talents and abilities; now, what are we doing with those? Are we keeping them for our own personal gain or are we using them to serve others and Him? We’re supposed to find our niche, discover our gifts and talents and then use them for His glory. We get to do what we love for the Kingdom.

After this, the pastor asked the congregation to close our eyes and allow a picture of one of our unique gifts to come into our minds. The image of an old quill pen entered my mind. I sat there in the wooden pew with that image and dug a little deeper.

The pen represents my love for writing and the talent God has given me. I am supposed to use my writing for the Kingdom, for His glory. My first thought was: Lord, I already do this. My blog is basically about my relationship with You and I give You full credit for my ability to write. As if I had reached the end of my ability to serve with my writing. The image of the pen goes further than that.

The quill pen gives me a reason to stay.

I’m pursing a degree in professional writing so that I can further my writing skills and get a job that allows me to write all day. Writing is my niche, and I can use that for the Kingdom. If I leave school I will not be honoring the Lord with the gift He has given me. I need to hone my craft and delve into new territories with it. I need to stay so that I can learn what it means to commit to a school, or a friend, or a degree. It’s selfish of me to choose to not commitment; it’s the opposite of serving others. By remaining non-committal I am, in a sense, choosing to use my gift for my own personal gain instead of contributing to something larger than myself.

I have a lot of hurts and wounds and experiences that make me what to run from community and commitment and serving. Some days I’m an extrovert who wants to love people, and other days I’d prefer to burrow under my covers and think only of myself. But we are not called to burrow; we are called to serve through our gifts that God has given us.

And I am called to stay. And commit. And serve. And write. 

Making Good Choices

I don’t write anymore. These words exasperatedly came out of my mouth yesterday. I’m a professional writing major who doesn’t write – ironic. Of course I am writing a lot, but it’s all technical and professional and words from my head instead of genuine and informal and words from my heart. I love studying professional writing, but when I don’t have time to write for fun I feel like a musician at an engineering convention or a business man in a hippie town – in other words, out of place.

Repetitive, mundane lives are one of my greatest pet peeves and I’ve found myself living one. It’s caused me to forget my song and lose track of my dance steps. However, when I get off my groove or forget who I am it’s because I’m the one who has taken a step backwards. I stop giving thanks for His gifts. I stop acknowledging His hand in my everyday life. And then it just cycles further downward from there. 

Satan actually does wait like a prowling lion ready to devour and he won’t stop short of absolute destruction. Destruction of my relationships, of my passions, of who I am. He uses something as simple as routine to drive wedges in my life.

So I’ve found myself at yet another low point. Months of mundane and grey skies, wordless days and bland thoughts. And I take responsibility for it. I’m the one who stopped singing. I’m the one who got bored and gave up on counting gifts and daily discipline for His glory.

Actually, we’ve had some beautiful spring weather lately that has tried to breathe air back into my deflated lungs, and I’ve refused it. I’ve chosen to close my eyes to the shorts and t-shift temperatures, and focus instead on the negative.

We live in a very broken world and I’m reminded of it more each day. We live in an exile of sorts, like the Israelites in their 400 years of silence, waiting for God to come back and defeat evil. God has made it very clear how we should live and how we should wait. So I return to the basics: be joyful always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances. I’ve been pursing these three commands for six years and I still forget how to do it.

If we expect to really live a full life pleasing to Him, we must put the shallow carbs back on the shelf and dig into the wholesome protein foods instead. We have to give our bodies and our minds what we are really craving, instead of short-term, temporary fixes.

Yesterday I started to sing again, started to count gifts again: the creamy green of an avocado, the sweetness of a mango, making granola from scratch, almond milk, simple workouts, dancing, Rwanda, friendships. And today I went back to a church that I had visited last semester and it felt right. It felt like how church is supposed to feel: reverent and genuine. And the words are flowing; I’m writing again.

I went to a coffee shop this afternoon with wifi worse than any café in Rwanda (that’s saying something) so I laughed and left and went to a used book store instead, because I’m choosing to look for ways to break up my mundane.

I crave more and I know that there is more in store. If we choose God in our low times, greatness is bound to happen. His mercies are new every morning, even when the skies are grey and the fog is thick. One day He will return and rescue us from our exile. Even if there are more dark days ahead, there will always be a light at the end of the tunnel if we choose Jesus.