I was born into a family of extroverts. Perhaps that explains why I told everyone I was adopted! I simply could not imagine sharing DNA with people who go out of their way to meet strangers in order to get to know them. Undetected existence in the shadows was fine with me. I believed that without knowing and being known one could avoid all sorts of ills: For example, embarrassment, vulnerability, rejection, and discomfort. When company would drop by I would hide in my parent’s closet to avoid having to talk to them or God forbid, play the piano for them. I can’t say that I was happy in my isolation, but I was safe.
Those who know my childhood still cannot believe that I became the pastor of a large membership church before I retired back into relative obscurity. God has a wry way of dragging us out of our comfort zones. Look at all the people in the Bible who hid behind their perceived inadequacies. Abraham and Sarah laughed at God because they knew they were too old to birth a nation. Jeremiah whined that he was too young to be a prophet. Moses stammered that he was too inarticulate to speak to anyone on behalf of the Hebrew slaves, and especially to Pharaoh.
My, how God uses us, even against our will, for our own good as well as for the good of others. Today I am serving the church as a volunteer staff member with the primary ministry of welcoming and offering hospitality to those new to the congregation. Perhaps because I was so shy and uncomfortable with new situations while growing up, I feel a passion for easing the way for others by removing the shadows of unfamiliarity and awkwardness. This often happens as I assume the uncomfortable position of initiating contact and the possible embarrassment of putting my foot in my mouth. The Apostle Paul spoke of becoming a “fool for Christ.” Sometimes it’s difficult to differential this from just being a “dang fool.” Nevertheless, I have come to find radical hospitality to be a higher calling than conservative withdrawal. It is only as we step out of our comfort zones, that solitude becomes community, and community becomes Shalom.
Growing up there was a hymn I used to play on the piano for our youth fellowship. It taught me that life is not all about me. And sometimes it’s not about me at all!
Lord, help me live from day to day
In such a self-forgetful way
That even when I kneel to pray
My prayer shall be for others.
This week wherever you go keep your eyes open for those who need you to take on the role of the initiator. Consciously put yourself in the vulnerable position so that the other person will be the one at ease. You will never believe how mutually blessed both of you will be.
Fearfully and Joyfully in Christ,
Ruth
