How
often do you like to step outside your safe place? The one you’ve built very
carefully, so it protects you from doing stuff you really don’t like to do?
I
had to step out of mine recently and thought I’d was going to lose my nerve.
Now, in all the world’s problems this is going to sound terribly insignificant.
Silly, really.
But
that’s what life is. Doing stuff we hate to do for the sake of something or
someone else.
Our
pastor was preaching a series about going out and being “the church in the
world.” He prompts us every week at the end of the sermon to do just that. I
love that about him…that he encourages us to step out. To DO something.
So
when he asked me to make a video telling a story about a “God Interruption” in
my life I instantly said, “No thank you. I don’t do cameras, lights, action or
microphones.”
Figured
he could get someone else in the congregation to tell their story.
Went
home and felt that I had been completely honest with him and that was THAT.
Next
day I emailed him back telling him I would do it. I had no idea how I was going
to handle it but I knew one thing:
This was not MY
story…it’s was God’s story.
So,
for ten days, I would lay in bed going over and over in my head, talking out
loud, to see how the story sounded, all the time wishing I hadn’t been so quick
to agree on a whim.
Finally,
I located the original typed version I wrote when it happened and re-read it half
a dozen times, trying to pick out the highlights.
I
worried about what I would wear for the taping, and if my low voice and fear of
anything live would end up ineffective. Would I be the first person who could
not make a video because I’d had to stop and start so many times?
I
don’t like my picture taken, my voice turns weak when I am speaking in front of
people, and would rather swallow cod liver oil than stand up in front of
people.
Did
I mention that I’m ADD…and that thoughts fly through my mind like a jet through
the clouds and I can’t remember things when I’m suppressed with fear.
So
I think you get the picture. I was not looking forward to the video session.
It
just happened that two of our three sons were here visiting, one from NYC, the
other from Southern California so our household was wonderfully crazy that week.
Which
did two things for me.
First,
I didn’t have time to wash clothes to dress nice, had to grab the best blouse I
could get my hands on, comb my hair quick and run out of the house the day of
the taping. There was no time to think too hard about what I was about to do.
Second,
I had no time to re-rehearse what I had already gone over a million times! In
other words, I was flying by the seat of my pants that day.
I
had no idea what to expect. Did they sit me in front of the church and video
there? Would there be an audience?
I
met the young man who was doing the video and waited for instructions.
Thankfully,
since I am a one-on-one type of gal; enjoying a visit with one or two people
just floats my boat. You really get to know people that way. And when I’m in a
large group I just lose any sense of that closeness. So I was very happy there weren’t lots of people standing
around looking at me.
It
was just me and him, the lights, the camera. I could do this.
And
I did. When it was done I was so thankful I asked the young man if I could hug
him! He was fine with that.
I
flew out of there glad to be going home. Glad I had said yes to our beloved
pastor and glad that our sons and their girls were waiting at our house. They
had been praying for me.
End
of story? Nope. The worst, for me, was yet to come. I thought that was the end
of my journey, having done something I hate to do.
The
next hurdle presented itself when I realized the video was going to be shown at
church to two services full of people I know!
I
wanted to skip church. Just let my husband tell me about it.
Chicken!!
But
my husband said, “maybe people will want to talk to you about your story.”
“That
was fine.” I said. “They can call me on the phone.”
Chicken!
My
husband and I had driven one son and his wife to the airport in Chicago in the
middle of the night…so we had very little sleep that Sunday morning. So I must have been out of my mind to go
to church that morning.
I
walked up to the door with my stomach in flip-flops. I thought the worst was
over at the taping and here I had to sit through a viewing of myself up there
on the screen. In front of the whole church. I mean can it get any worse when
you are a gal who does NOT like that kind of attention all at once?
I
love attention. Just one-on-one attention.
Our
wonderfully sweet greeter at the door whispered in my ear how much she loved
the story, that it brought her to tears.
My heart began to settle down.
If
SHE said it was okay, then it was OKAY!
Pastor
preached the whole sermon and I was about to jump out of my seat every time he
made a move…I had hoped he would not show it until the end. And that was the
case, so I was grateful for that.
But
during the entire time, my stomach was still flip-flopping.
Finally
I sat there watching myself on screen criticizing my hair, my facial movements,
that shirt I had on…and watched as though I was in a dream.
There
is was.
I
had done it. I had told the story … the one pastor reminded me was “God’s
Story” not mine.
And
realized something that day.
It
ain’t about me!!!
Idea:
Do something outside your safe zone and share your story with me?
I’d
love to hear it.
