I recently received an invitation to write for a respected and well-known Christian ministry. Just as humbled and honoured as I was when I was invited to be a part of (in)courage, I sat at my desk, re-reading the email in disbelief. I was asked to submit a couple of my pieces for their review so I could be considered for the contributor team. Much like the excitement and nervousness I experienced when I was invited to join (in)courage, it took me a while to fully grasp this new invitation.
Why me?
In all transparency, I often struggle with inadequacy and impostor syndrome regarding opportunities like this. The only writing I have done in the past includes shopping lists and notes for teachers, if those count. My knowledge of literature and writing is limited; I am unfamiliar with many books, authors, genres, and topics that commonly arise in conversations with other writers.
But there I sat at my laptop, fingers eagerly poised, ready to dance across the keyboard to compose new writing samples. But I typed and deleted, typed and deleted, trying to recall all the messages the Lord had placed in my heart to share – the insights He reveals to me during our moments together at my kitchen table as I pray and study His Word. But why couldn’t I recall them? Why weren’t the words flowing like they do when I discuss powerful readings with my mother-in-law as she washes the dishes or when a revelation from the Lord touches my heart and brings me to tears?
It was quiet, but I was not ready to give up!
I sat there for a few hours, curating a beautiful devotional. It included all the required elements based on the given parameters, and I felt satisfied. And then, I didn’t. I started deleting, adding, and rearranging words, but nothing sounded right. Tired and frustrated, I passionately closed my laptop and called it a night!
I lay in bed, fed up and confused, my eyes refusing to close. In the safety of the room’s darkness, I quietly wept, asking, “Why, Lord? Why is this so difficult? Why would you present this opportunity if you know I’m not good enough?” As my tears soaked the pillow, I prayed and fell into silence.
It’s fascinating what occurs when we become quiet.
My mind began to drift back to my high school band days. I played the flute but secretly wanted to play the clarinet — not for any practical reason, but simply because, as silly as it sounds, I wanted a reed and that charming little pink case it came with. Yes, the reed and that pink case!
As I reflected on the reed that night and the following day, the Lord spoke to my heart regarding the article I attempted to “curate.”
He said, “Ligia, you are to be my mouthpiece. The reed may seem insignificant and useless to those who aren’t musicians, but it plays a crucial role in the melody produced by the instrument. Yet, without the reed placed in the instrument’s mouthpiece and without the breath of the musician flowing through it, it serves no purpose. The reed cannot create on its own what it was designed to contribute as part of an instrument that requires breath to function.”
“Ligia,” the Lord continued, “This instrument symbolizes the task I have assigned you, the places and spaces I have invited you into; you are the reed. I have placed you precisely where my breath can flow through to create what only I can impart to you through the Holy Spirit.”
That was it. I had been depending on my limited abilities, thoughts, and inspirations. I made it about myself, and the truth is, apart from Jesus, I can do nothing.
At that moment, the Holy Spirit met me gracefully and brought me to 1 Corinthians 1:26-31 MSG.
“Take a good look, friends, at who you were when you got called into this life. I don’t see many of “the brightest and the best” among you, not many influential, not many from high-society families. Isn’t it obvious that God deliberately chose men and women that the culture overlooks and exploits and abuses, chose these “nobodies” to expose the hollow pretensions of the “somebodies”? That makes it quite clear that none of you can get by with blowing your own horn before God. Everything that we have — right thinking and right living, a clean slate and a fresh start — comes from God by way of Jesus Christ….”
God doesn’t choose us because we are flawless individuals who meet every requirement or because we are “the brightest and the best.” He chooses us because He sees what we often fail to see in ourselves: a willing heart, a genuine love for Him, and a desire to honour Him and bring Him glory despite our imperfections. We are to be His vessels.
Today, I encourage you to be a reed. Allow the Lord to place you precisely where His breath can move through you. As you inhabit the spaces entrusted to you, fill the air with His love and glory for His divine pleasure, remembering that apart from Him, we can do nothing.
This reminds me of Moses how he felt insecure when God called him but God empowered him and helped him and guides him. What a beautiful testimony you have! It totally inspired me, as I feel God nudging me to set up a Facebook public page for my artwork and writing for His kingdom and glory and to be an encouragement to others. I don’t know how to even do that, but trust that where God calls me He will provide a way.
Thank you so much for the beautiful way you expressed God’s love and faithfulness as we are His vessels (reeds),apart from Him we are mere mortals. With Him we are complete. Thank you for sharing your vulnerability and His message in your silence all while old two horn’s tried to plant seeds of doubt.