A Storyteller Without a Story

Often I hear myself complaining that I don't know what it is God wants me to do. Actually, that is just not true. I have some very specific directions God has laid on my heart over the years.

I've been called to minister to women. Many, many years ago, God placed it on my heart to minister to women, and over those years, I've come to understand that this call takes on lots of different appearances. Whether it is comforting a woman facing a crises like mine, encouraging a mom to minister to her family in the way God has called her, or teaching a Junior High Bible study, I have learned that encouraging women to think and live biblically is an important calling, even if no one ever knows my name.

I've been called to raise three boys, often with only God's help. These three souls are important to Him. Maybe I don't always understand why. In the middle of one of the frequent contests to prove who is the greatest, strongest, smartest, wittiest . . . I often wonder. But these three men-in-training are very important to God and are critical elements to His plan in the work He is doing.

I've been called to be a storyteller. In wrestling with my modest photography skills, I discovered that for me photography is merely another tool to tell a story. Like words, which I love, communicating what God shows me all around me is important to me because it is something God has gifted me to do for Him. I realized it was OK that I don't have mad-skills as an artistic, creative photographer. God has enabled me to use photography and writing to tell stories and communicate His character to others.

I woke up this morning thinking about these things. I felt guilty . . . again . . . for the way I squander my time. And it hit me . . . . I've turned myself into a storyteller without a story. In striving to be whatever I see that other people are . . . in trying to shut out the painful suffering of the lessons God is teaching me (so I can share them with others) . . . I've neglected the very things He has given me to do. So I'm repenting again. Deciding to write again. Attempting to view my meanderings and trailblazings in this land of teenage boys as my God-given wilderness where He has placed me to display His goodness and glory.

Repenting and setting out . . . again.