Have you ever failed to speak up for God? Have you considered why? Take this quiz for a bit of insight:
I find it hard to speak up for God..
1. When I feel like I won’t know the right answer.
2. When I feel like my words or motives might be misunderstood.
3. When I’m afraid of what others will think of me.
4. When I’m the only one whose a believer.
If you’re like most women (and me!) you answered “yes” to all the above. Speaking for God can be downright scary.
Right now I’m on a plane heading back home to California after spending the last week in Italy. No, I didn’t go for vacation (although you’d be hard pressed not to enjoy Florence or Rome!) My husband, JP and I were invited to speak for a conference, which turned out to be even more wonderful than exploring the sights of a lush foreign county. But, to be candid, I had my doubts. Why? The audience was, quite literally, the most diverse I’ve ever spoken for; Half Italians, a good number of Americans, a few Albanians, some Brits, a German and two Malawians. If that doesn’t sound diverse enough for you, add in spiritual backgrounds ranging from church members, to seekers, to brand new believers, to full-time missionaries. Throw in an age range that spanned 19-63, then toss into the mix a combination of singles, young married couples and married couples with children, and you’ll see why I felt speaking for this group was WAY above my pay grade.
Oh, and did I mention that I gave my messages with a translator?
Which means I had to speak
one
sentence
at
a
time.
So a 30 minute talk takes one hour, since every word has t be said twice.
Mamma Mia!
Sounds like a disaster waiting in the wings, doesn’t it?
Only it wasn’t.
The talks I gave this week were perhaps some of the most profoundly satisfying and well-received messages I’ve ever given. And trust me, it wasn’t because of me. This event stretched me in ways I hadn’t been stretched in longer than I can remember. “What should I say?” rattled around in my brain for days. I struggled over the content of my messages. I worried that my Biblical explanations would be misunderstood. I fretted over whether my illustrations would make any sense to women with such diverse backgrounds, and whose lives may bear little resemblance to mine. In fact, I considered leaving out personal stories, altogether.
But that just wouldn’t have been me. So I decided to take a leap of faith and trust that women are women, no matter their age, language or spiritual maturity. We struggle with the same hopes, fears and concerns. We share the same longings. We need the same God.
It was a risk. In fact, the morning of my first talk I wondered why on earth I agreed to speak.
Until I started.
I looked into their faces and saw me. You. Us.
If God has called you to speak, remember that you audience is, in many ways, just like you. The feelings you have, they have. They questions you ask, they ask. The worries that keep you up at night, keep them up at night, too.
And The God that meets your needs, answers your questions, and calms your heart, calms theirs.
Women are women wherever you go.
And God’s truth has the answers wherever you go.
You may never find yourself behind a microphone, but God has still called you to speak for Him. It may be to a woman who looks and speaks and dresses just like you, or it may be to a woman whose life seems completely foreign. But whether you are called to be a speaker in the professional sense of the word, or just called to speak up for God, right where you live, don’t let fear paralyze you or silence you. The woman you speak to may desperately need to hear what you have to share.
And you may be just the right woman to share it.
Thank you Donna. This is encouraging.