If I were to be honest, simply writing this post is a stretch for me. Five years ago, I wouldn't have hesitated to push the "Publish" button; today I'm wondering if I'm really ready to take that step again.
There was a time when I did not hesitate to share my story. My story was as much a part of me as my name. It was my passion, my message, my hope. I shared it because I knew that God would use it to help someone. I wasn't ashamed of it because God brought me through it. I knew the places God rescued me from and I knew that He could do the same for so many others.
So I shared without hesitation because at the end of the day, it wasn't my story to tell.
It was His.
Somewhere along the way, though, I stopped sharing what had become such an integral part of my life and ministry. I allowed the voices of people around me to plant doubt in what I felt God calling me to do with my life. I slammed the door on the plans, dreams, and passions of my heart because they made me uncomfortable. I stopped writing because if I didn't write from a place of vulnerability, then I had nothing to share.
I started praying for God to give me a new passion. Something normal. Something less vulnerable. Something safe. I remember praying for a life that didn't involve having to speak up about uncomfortable topics.
"Maybe I'll just live a normal life... stop writing altogether. I don't need to write to fulfill a purpose. I don't need to put myself out there. Someone else can do it. I can live behind the scenes and make just as much of an impact."
So I did. I stopped writing. I stopped speaking up about the topics that were important to me. I stopped being vulnerable. When people asked about my dreams, I had vague answers:
"Oh, you know. Have kids eventually, I guess."
"Work."
"Go back to school."
I traded a life full of meaning and passion for something I honestly didn't want to do. Deep down, I wanted to spur on change in this world. I wanted to reassure people that there is hope and freedom. I wanted people to know that they weren't alone.
But I wasn't willing to step outside of my comfort zone to do it. I was paralyzed by the fear of what people would think or say.
After living a few years like this, I realized that I'd been living my life at a distance. I kept people at arms length. I didn't let people get close. When they asked questions, I'd give them simple answers. Nothing too revealing. Nothing too interesting. Nothing more than what they needed to know.
Sometimes we allow the voices around us to dictate how we feel about ourselves, our situations, and our beliefs. We allow people who shouldn't have much say in our lives to have all of the say. We ignore God's gentle nudging on our hearts because we don't think it fits into how other people view us.
It took me a couple of years to realize what I was doing. I thought I was being smart. I thought I was listening to God. I thought I was following a new purpose... that I had misunderstood what I was supposed to do with my life.
Then someone brought up the topic. Someone knew someone who had an eating disorder, who struggled with depression. And the things that I had stuffed down for so long came bubbling back up to the surface. I wanted to share. I wanted to help. I wanted to let someone know that they were not alone.
Because I remembered what it was like to feel alone in this often silent struggle. I remembered how hopeless I felt. I remembered what it was like to feel misunderstood.
God used that situation to revive a dream and a passion I purposely let die. He reminded me of the things that made me feel alive, made me speak up. He gave me the nudging I needed to take a step out of the boat.
God uses vulnerability. He uses the things that are hard to make the biggest impact. If He's calling you to do something you're uncomfortable doing, there's always a bigger purpose behind it.
