Empowered at a Porch Table

I haven’t blogged in a while. I know, I’m stating the obvious, but I promise it’s relevant to this post specifically.

Last week I visited my friend Skylar’s house to simply catch up, craft like kids and enjoy a cup of cinnamonny tea. I expected nothing but good from the day, knowing that every time I meet with this specific friend I leave with a fresh sense of God’s presence. A reminder of how He is working. Sometimes it’s just that constant stream of “you too!?”s. There's something about the way He aligns our lives and the lessons He's teaching us separately yet simultaneously that gets me every time.

But this time was different.        

It was a brisk, autumn day, so we dumped a drawerful of craft supplies on her wood-topped porch table and sank into cushions across from one another. I was giddy to get my hands in the paint and on the canvases—but God had something else in mind.

            “Cassie...” she said as she sat still, staring into my eyes, “we need to talk about something..."
I stared back.
"Your writing,” she said.

            I froze.

            I already began conspiring how I could scoot around the topic and get her to talk about herself.

            “Oh that’s sweet, but we only have so much time and we have SO many more things we need to talk—“

            “No,” she interrupted, “Cassie, this is exactly what we need to talk about. You need to know this.”

Not only was she looking right at me, but she was talking about me. I wanted to cover my face with paint or hide underneath the picnic table.

            “Can I please, please pull up your blog really quick!? I just have to show you,” she said as she hopped toward the patio door. She didn’t wait for my answer. She scurried into her house to grab her laptop and plop it on the picnic table, my blog’s front page consuming screen.

This was an extremely strange sight to me when I thought for certain that the only other screen I would ever see my blog would be my mother’s. The writings on JOYride have simply been an overflow of the joy God has spilled into my life. I only rewrite the lessons He's written for me, that others might see that He came that we “may have life, and may have it more abundantly,” (John 10:10).

She couldn’t have just skimmed through the posts out of some kind of “good-friend” obligation—she read every word. She left fingerprints on the screen, pointing to her favorite phrases. She told me about how she shared the post with her roommates and the praises from each one. As if that wasn’t enough, she narrated back their conversations to me. The thought of Christ-centered chatter filling her house generated by my posts was the most fulfilling yet surreal feeling.

I realized something beautiful at that porch table with her laptop flipped open. A few things, actually.
First of all—I know now more than ever that no matter what I write, God is the One who will speak. As she shared with me the childhood memories that specific words and lines brought to her mind, she unraveled the lessons that God taught her while she was reading.

What a weight this has lifted off of me: a weight I never needed to carry. If God chooses to use writing, which would be the greatest privilege I will ever know, then I never need to worry about the outcome. He is doing a work in the readers, and there is nothing I can do to stop Him.

“Okay, I know you need to go, but Cassie...” she paused and stared into my eyes with a sense of urgency I've never seen before, “look me in the eyes and promise me that you will keep writing.”

I broke her gaze, letting my eyes fall to the floor. She’s just being nice. I thought. 

“Cassie,” her voice demanded. I looked back into her pleading pupils.

“Please.”

She begged me. I was fully convinced that she wouldn’t drive me home unless I promised her that I would keep writing.

She wouldn’t be satisfied. And this is just when I realized the second something beautiful. Secondly—I realized that true friends in the family of believers could never watch you leave your gift untouched. They refuse to let you settle for less than who you were made to be in Christ. They know this life is just “a mist," and they won’t let you miss out on the “good He has planned for those who love Him” (James 4:14, Romans 8:28).

So now, I’m begging you.

What's your gift? How can God use it to give life to others? Have you decided to let your gift collect dust, thinking God would let you get away with it?

Maybe you have the gift of wisdom, knowledge, or encouragement, but you’ve been keeping silent. Maybe you love to give more than what is expected, but you’ve made the giving of others your standard. Maybe you are a natural leader, but lately it’s been easier to let someone else do the job.

Or, maybe you’re unsure of your gift; or maybe you know, but you’re unsure how to see God use it in your daily life. I encourage you to check out these fantastic resources and embark an adventure that is sure to bring you joy.

Will you let Him surprise you with the unpredictable things He wants to do through you, based on the way He wired you?

Will I?

We’ll see.

“For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God.” 2 Timothy 1:6

“Do not neglect your gift,” 1 Timothy 4:14

“For we are His workmanship,

created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand,

that we should walk in them,” Ephesians 2:10

One last thing. If God has blessed you with the gift of encouragement, like my friend Skylar, never underestimate this gift. In Christ, it has the power to breathe life and energy into an exhausted and discouraged heart. I thank God for your wiring, because I might not have the joy of writing right now if someone hadn’t taken full ownership of this gift. I urge you to fan it into flame, and rejoice while you watch God rekindle the flames of others.