Answering the Why Question
The previous week or so has been a whirlwind of adjusting to new life changes. For someone such as myself, this is annoyingly daunting. While I am a fan of spur-of-the-moment fun and adapt to small alterations of my day rather quickly, I admit I am sorely lacking in elasticity when it comes to permanent, routine-altering shifts in my life.
Despite my taking this company’s quick acceptance of my application as a sign of my being ready to move forward, I continue to wrestle with anxious thoughts concerning the days ahead, which I find... disheartening. I didn’t realize just how much I relied upon routine for peace of mind.
The only way through for me lies in answering the why question. Why keep going? Why even try to show up with a smile on my face? Why push through? Is this role imperative to the wellbeing of my community? No. This would be the downside to a plethora of choices. Am I easily replaced by the company I work for? Probably. What I do is not all that complicated.
So why do it? Why not just delve back into the arts where my comfort zone and skills lie? Because He asked me to. My job may not be essential in the grand scheme of time and history, which does make it difficult to reconcile time away from the people I love most, but I am needed. Or wanted at the very least.
I’ve been thinking a lot about Jesus’ statement The harvest is great but the workers are few. Was this statement only true at this point in time? If so, why include it to be forever remembered by future generations? The harvest is great. I know the message of God’s love for humanity and the steps Jesus took to save us from ourselves has yet to reach all four corners of the earth. But the workers are few? Are there truly so few Jesus followers in the world? Possibly, but I do not believe this is the meaning in its entirety. Not anymore.
I’ve loved Jesus for a long time. But I have not been willing to step outside of myself and my cozy little bubble until recently. For nearly a decade and a half, I’ve been deaf to His call Who shall I send... Not to a far country, but my own county. Now I hear Him plain as day and cannot ignore the plea Who shall I send! Not to preach at my co-workers but to love them and serve this company every day like He would.
What I do right now may not look like much in the eyes of, well, anyone, but just being out in the world with the mentality to open the doors of Heaven to the people around me is reason enough to try. Again. And again. And again. To push through the fear that makes me want to run out those sliding glass doors and never look back. To show up every shift with a smile on my face and contentment in my heart.
I am a walking talking key to God Himself. All Christians are, which is why I need to be in the world among other people for longer than the forty-five minutes or so it takes me to buy groceries or sit in a coffee shop.
I used to disqualify myself from this level of availability, thinking my weaknesses made me unfit for duty in any sense. Master Yoda wouldn’t even have to close his eyes before declaring Much fear I sense in you and sending me away from the Order. But Jesus doesn’t do this, which I suppose is evidence that His strength and ability far exceeds my weakness and lack of qualification.
He takes my fear and faults into account and declares me exactly what Heaven needs to bear the image of an invisible God to a world that does not know Him. He doesn’t require my understanding, only the response Here I am, send me!
Over time, as relationship builds and trust grows, Master becomes Friend then Mentor then Father. He never sighs with impatience when I admit I’m still afraid and need His help to get through the day. He simply whispers Courage, dear heart and hands me my saber as we walk out the door.
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