Friday, February 8, 2013

In Which I am Silent—Again?!

Okay, ya'll.

I just need to rant.

Winter sickness and work weariness in full swing, there are less of us tonight. We gather up in a circle as usual and we chat lightly over some pizza and brownies. I think we're all a little exhausted this week and it shows. There more quiet then normal but not the awkward kind. I feel safe here in this crowd and I know God is at work among us. I see it even in the fact that I tend to run from these kind of things after a week or two, but not this one. In fact, on the weeks we don't meet I find myself wanting.

We're all young adults and generally post-grad. I might be one of the few execptions. But I love that. I love walking with friends who have gone before—what wisdom and grace they offer. We know all the names without tags and we remember to pray during the week. We talk about real life and it's messy sometimes. It's real community, ya'll and there is nothing sweeter.

So here I am sitting in this circle that connects us and the Word lays open on my lap and I lose my voice when it does. Like literally. It's not the thoughts I lose because the Spirit is continually prompting me to share. Over and over and over. It's just the ability to make sounds come off my tongue that suddenly ceases—every single week. Ridiculous I know. In fact I can't even believe I am writing about this, using words on it, but this is my battle and I am so sick of it reigning over me.

Anyone relate?

I label it all sorts of things and toss the blame around afterwards, as I drive home down those windy roads in frustration once again.

-If my dad hadn't messed me up so bad, well then I would trust people better and I would talk more about what I'm really thinking. It's all a trust thing and it's just not my fault. 

-Then there's the people pleaser blame game. Well, I guess I just care too much what everyone thinks. They obviously do fine without my commentary, so why mess up the flow with my awkwardness now? What I could I possibly have to say that they don't already know?

-Next comes the blame it on the personality that doesn't even believe the word extrovert should be in the dictionary. It's just who I am—I'm just a quiet person and it's okay if I don't talk as much as they do.

-I can also live in fear and blame it's masterhood over me for the silence. Fear of man and fear of rejection and fear of things I can't even name. Fear of sounding stupid and under-taught in my knowledge and understanding of scripture. 

I guess sitting in a circle half filled with brilliant seminary grads doesn't help the fear recant much.

After months of this building and no victory in sight, I got in the car last night and wept. Yep, I was pretty pitiful. It's a good thing the Lord is gentle and compassionate when needed. I cried out and begged Him to set me free. From what I don't even know, all of the above and everything underneath?

Then came the okay let's get past the emotions and be real here part of our conversation. That's when I confessed pride. That's the root, right?

Pride smothered in insecurity because that sounds more helpless and less my fault? Yep, I do that. I call it a lack of trust or fear or my personality just so that I don't have to tamper with that ugly "P" word that none of us want to claim and yet I think its a fight we need to engage in more offensivley.

At least I do.

So not wanting to be associated with the ugliness of my pride, not wanted to be a slave to it, I must simply walk obediently to the Lord—and look at things a little more objectively. Sharing my thoughts as the spirit prompts is obedience to the God. Not sharing is disobedience, {not always of course but in this situation for me personally}. Simple.

There is community lost and encouragement drowned in the silence. Not because I'm that great, just because God gives us more grace. That's why it says he opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble. I never knew the way my silence among others could separate me from God, but it has. 

Maybe this fellowship time is more about the strength rising up as our dozen comes together to love one another and speak hope in the messiness then it is about me. Surely a cord of that many is not easily broken? It's about loving one another in a way that shows the world we are indeed disciples of Christ.

It's about Him and all for His glory because someday that will be enough. Someday we won't grow tired of worship. Someday we won't be able to do anything but fall on our face before Him in awe.

My pride creates opposition, it blinds me from standing in awe of Christ like that. 

And in this messed up world I need more of that that, not less. These brothers and sisters remind me of the more that is to come as we talk out the word in love every week and part of the worshipping is the talking and I want to be apart of that because it's not about me.

Oh grace how sweet the sound. 

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