Words have always played a prime role in my life. Some of my most defining moments in life have revolved around words – words I spoke, words spoken to me, reading the Word of God, or preaching it. Words have a formative way – a captivating , formulating, molding way about them. And in my life, words have been my primary sustenance, my central conviction, my main ministry.
I remember the first time someone spoke meaningful, mentoring words of encouragement to me. It is my earliest memory of being used by God. I was at summer camp (surprise, surprise) for the first time, and while I was ambivalent about the “Christian camp experience,” I was silently hopeful that I would hear from the Lord. There was one particular night that was dedicated particularly to the emotional, a night when the call was given to repent and recommit your life to Christ at a fire-light night under the stars. The frustrating thing was, I didn’t hear a thing from God. As hard as I tried, as much as I strained my young spiritual self to hear the voice of God, all was silent. I returned to the cabin among my tear-stained, clearly-spoken-to, cabin mates. When we just through the door my counselor pulled me outside and said she sensed that God would have her pray with me. So we walked a few paces from the sleeping cabin and started to talk. I can’t tell you what exactly happened. Not only do I not remember several years from the incident, but I don’t think I could have told you thirty minutes later. I started talking – I talked about women and how God had created us beautifully, both physically and spiritually. I think I quoted Scripture passages, though I couldn’t tell you which ones. And before I knew it, my counselor was in tears. She wept harder than I had seen an adult cry up until that point. As she wept, she told me how she knew God had something to say to her, and that she believed He had just said it through me.
And that was the first time someone spoke meaningful, mentoring words of encouragement to me. Her words – the affirmation that God had used me – wedged themselves in my soul and would not relent. They filled me with awe and awareness. I never knew that God could speak through young girls; and even if I believed it could happen, I would have never been convinced that it would happen to me.
As I continued to grow into the smashingly successful women I am now (ahem, ahem … the unemployed blogger) words became more and more central in my life. They are the main theme of my growth and the common denominator in my most pinnacle situations; they are the source of my greatest shame and my most broken moments. The concept of the written word, the spoken word, and the Holy Word have become among my most precious things.
Currently, I am in a season of ambiguity. As aforementioned, I am unemployed. I am living in a new town, in a new state, with a new husband, and by golly if I can’t recognize one piece of my life these days. I am a foreigner, in large part, to my daily habitation. And in the midst of all things unfamiliar, I have been reminded of the one continuous theme by which our dear Father has directed my life – words. And so this my ambition: to remember and recount the ways of God by using the things He has most gifted and directed me with in the past – words.
If I was a proficient introvert, this would be a notebook full of thoughts.
But I’m not. So it’s a blog.
I may not have words everyday, and even if I do they may not be profound or edited. But this blog is my commitment to use God’s gift of words in a way that reminds me – and maybe even you – that He is doing great things, even if we don’t recognize them in our daily lives.
Oh, and there’ll be some crafts thrown in there, too. Because no matter how much I hate being a stereotype, I’m a Christian woman who loves to share a recipe or quilt pattern. Bah, there. The word is out.
Well, welcome to the journey of Word & Craft.