[when you’re not sure what to do]
I felt rather than saw the gaze upon me.
I was on my way home from work. Got out of the metro, walked to the bus stop, and got into the trolleybus. The trolleybus was immersed in darkness – only a few lamps were working. I got my ticket and got further inside.
The seats were all occupied, so I stood enjoying the music playing on my iPod and thinking about the happenings of the day.
That’s when I felt the inquiring look. I looked down to the left and saw a pair of eyes peering from underneath the hood that was pulled low over the forehead. A homeless man. Our eyes met for a brief moment and then I looked away.
I had to go a few stops and although I sat down a couple of stops later, I felt that gaze still trained on me. Deep down I wanted to say something to that stranger in the night, yet I could not think of anything…
It always bugs me – this inability to speak freely with people. Even though I try to open up, some deep “subconscious me” keeps my mouth shut. It is becoming a little bit easier as I grow up, but not much.
And what would I tell that man? God loves you? It’s true, but it just sounds so… naïve. Here am I, dressed neatly, on my way home from work… “Well, young girl, your God sure loves you, but I am not so sure about whether He does love me.”
I mentioned in my other post that I struggle sometimes with the amount of blessings that I get. It renders me somewhat incapable to speak to others whose lives were tougher than mine.
I remember my first sermon… I was preaching at mom’s Church of the Nazarene and her congregation mostly consists of elderly people. People who lived through the artificial famine of 1930s, people who lived through the WWII, people who lived through many “dangers, toils, and snares,” to quote my favorite hymn. As I was preparing my message, I remember worrying “What can I tell those people? I am just a 21-year-old kid.” I thought my heart would jump out – I am far from a good public speaker (well, with kids and when I am translating it’s another story, but not when I have to be an adult and speak for myself)… Yet, when I came out and stood behind the pulpit… It was an indescribable feeling. I was speaking, yet at the same time I was listening to myself and my own words as if it wasn’t me talking. And I don’t think it was me speaking.
At the same time… I knew the parish and they knew me; I think they still consider me a granddaughter, most of them… but when I am speaking to people who do not know me or whom I do not know… It is different. I am happy and I want to share that happiness yet I don’t know how. I read / hear / see the stories of other people who are obviously great in this and… it’s not jealousy… I just want to learn how to be able to share what’s on my heart with people and I don’t know how. I can write, but that won’t reach others… *Sigh*
The passage that gives me comfort in all this comes from Paul (I seem to be quoting him a lot lately, don’t I?).
You are Christ’s body—that’s who you are! You must never forget this. Only as you accept your part of that body does your “part” mean anything. You’re familiar with some of the parts that God has formed in his church, which is his “body”: apostles, prophets, teachers, miracle workers, healers, helpers, organizers, and those who pray in tongues. But it’s obvious by now, isn’t it, that Christ’s church is a complete Body and not a gigantic, unidimensional Part? It’s not all Apostle, not all Prophet, not all Miracle Worker, not all Healer, not all Prayer in Tongues, not all Interpreter of Tongues.
1 Corinthians 12:27-30, the Message
I don’t have to be able to do it all… And I can serve wherever I am and I thank God for the opportunities that He provides for sharing His love with people at work as well as at my Church and in my family. I am still learning and got a long way to go before I will be the one He wants me to be, but I am trying. And not giving up…
And then, I keep feeling the gaze still. I should’ve said something.
Have you ever had that struggle? When you want to share yet feel inadequate? What did you do about it?