God-given Gifts
It was odd: a bird hopping.
Even more odd – it kept hopping.
I was riding my bike through a historic neighborhood here in Lexington. Lush green lawns, landscaping, huge antiquated homes, the Henry Clay estate – I love it, and I ride there often.
Well, this day I was biking and a bird was in my path.
At any moment I expected it to move. Fly, actually.
But, it didn’t.
It just hopped along happily in front of me – as my front wheel rolled closer and closer to its tail feathers.
Then, only briefly, it took flight.
It didn’t go very far, just a few inches in fact. Then, it started hopping again. I watched it for a long time. I don’t know why. It just seemed so odd.
That’s when the oddity was revealed to me: this bird had the God-given ability and right to fly, yet it chose to hop. For some reason, it refused flight. And, in doing so, it refused God’s purpose and intent.
Birds fly.
Now, I don’t know a lot about birds – maybe, there was a very logical explanation and I was just trying to be deep and reflective. But, perhaps not.
I saw a spiritual parallel to myself.
God gave me creativity.
He blessed me with words.
I see rhythm. I get flow.
I was born to write. Yet, it often scares me.
I’m writing my first novel and it’s in its final stages. Yet, I’m not dedicated to it. I’m not disciplined about working on it. I take an artsy approach to it: I wait til I’m inspired, and even then I run from the writing.
I’m hopping.
God’s given me His talent, His anointing, His power and His grace – along with opportunity, time and space – and I’m hopping. Have been for nearly five years.
It was five years ago that I started.
And the book’s not finished.
Yes, there were some things I had to learn. Yes, there were some thing I had to endure in order to write this book which deals with healing. But dang, I’m hopping and it no longer feels right.
I was created to fly – and my legs are tired.
God didn’t give me springs, so I’m wearing myself out doing something I’m not supposed to do – hopping - instead of what he created me to do. I’m hopping.
What about you?
What has God purposed in you?
What ministry?
What calling?
What work?
What God-given talent are you denying and running from? More importantly, why? Aren’t you tired?
And, isn’t it funny how the fear of something is just as horrid and heinous as the actual thing itself? It’s just as crippling, just as paralyzing, just as terrorizing – accept it’s not even real. We’re hopping, fearing we’ll plummet to the ground if we actually spread our wings, flap them and attempt to soar.
Hm. Who knows?
Maybe we will. The greater possibility, however, is that we won’t: because we’re working with God-given ability. He’s both anointed us and appointed us to soar. He’s equipped us. Mightily. Greatly. And we just have to take Him at His word: He’ll never leave us or forsake us.
So, I guess I should go now: I need to practice flapping. This whole hopping thing doesn’t fit me anymore.
Know that I love you each, L.
Even more odd – it kept hopping.
I was riding my bike through a historic neighborhood here in Lexington. Lush green lawns, landscaping, huge antiquated homes, the Henry Clay estate – I love it, and I ride there often.
Well, this day I was biking and a bird was in my path.
At any moment I expected it to move. Fly, actually.
But, it didn’t.
It just hopped along happily in front of me – as my front wheel rolled closer and closer to its tail feathers.
Then, only briefly, it took flight.
It didn’t go very far, just a few inches in fact. Then, it started hopping again. I watched it for a long time. I don’t know why. It just seemed so odd.
That’s when the oddity was revealed to me: this bird had the God-given ability and right to fly, yet it chose to hop. For some reason, it refused flight. And, in doing so, it refused God’s purpose and intent.
Birds fly.
Now, I don’t know a lot about birds – maybe, there was a very logical explanation and I was just trying to be deep and reflective. But, perhaps not.
I saw a spiritual parallel to myself.
God gave me creativity.
He blessed me with words.
I see rhythm. I get flow.
I was born to write. Yet, it often scares me.
I’m writing my first novel and it’s in its final stages. Yet, I’m not dedicated to it. I’m not disciplined about working on it. I take an artsy approach to it: I wait til I’m inspired, and even then I run from the writing.
I’m hopping.
God’s given me His talent, His anointing, His power and His grace – along with opportunity, time and space – and I’m hopping. Have been for nearly five years.
It was five years ago that I started.
And the book’s not finished.
Yes, there were some things I had to learn. Yes, there were some thing I had to endure in order to write this book which deals with healing. But dang, I’m hopping and it no longer feels right.
I was created to fly – and my legs are tired.
God didn’t give me springs, so I’m wearing myself out doing something I’m not supposed to do – hopping - instead of what he created me to do. I’m hopping.
What about you?
What has God purposed in you?
What ministry?
What calling?
What work?
What God-given talent are you denying and running from? More importantly, why? Aren’t you tired?
And, isn’t it funny how the fear of something is just as horrid and heinous as the actual thing itself? It’s just as crippling, just as paralyzing, just as terrorizing – accept it’s not even real. We’re hopping, fearing we’ll plummet to the ground if we actually spread our wings, flap them and attempt to soar.
Hm. Who knows?
Maybe we will. The greater possibility, however, is that we won’t: because we’re working with God-given ability. He’s both anointed us and appointed us to soar. He’s equipped us. Mightily. Greatly. And we just have to take Him at His word: He’ll never leave us or forsake us.
So, I guess I should go now: I need to practice flapping. This whole hopping thing doesn’t fit me anymore.
Know that I love you each, L.
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