Alive

Every day is a new day
I’m thankful for every breath I take
I won’t take it for granted (I won’t take it for granted)
So I learn from my mistakes
It’s beyond my control
Sometimes it’s best to let go
Whatever happens in this lifetime
So I trust in love (so I trust in love)
You have given me peace of mind

I, I feel so alive
For the very first time
I can’t deny You (I feel so alive)
I, I feel so alive
For the very first time (for the very first time)
And I think I can fly

That’s the first verse and chorus of a song called “Alive” that was really popular a few years ago by a crossover “rap core” group called POD. The music’s a little edgy, but the lyrics are pretty inspiring, and kind of give voice to how I’ve been feeling lately.

For the first time in a while, I’ve gone without falling back on my characteristic “moodiness.” I feel like I’ve progressed, like I’ve gotten over a little hump that I’ve been trying to get over for a while. I’ve realized that, for the first time in a while, I actually feel good about myself and that God is leading me toward an “expected end” (Jeremiah 29:11).

I just finished reading a book that I mentioned previously entitled Revelations of a Single Woman: Loving the Life I Didn’t Expect by Connally Gilliam. The book itself, indeed, was something I didn’t expect. It wasn’t a much-despised-in-my-eyes-waiting-on-a-man book. Neither was it a keep-a-stiff-upper-lip-and-get-on-with-your-life-without-a-man-all-you-need-is-Jesus book. It was an honest, insightful, almost memoir, of a single, Christian lady navigating through life. It was the Aristotelian Golden Mean between the two extremes I mentioned above. It spoke to something I was having a bit of an inner struggle with (see post entitled “Uh-oh”).

I feel like I’m on the brink of making some big decisions. It’s probably come to the forefront in light of the fact that I’m taking the Graduate Record Exam (GRE) tomorrow—a must before entering graduate school. A part of me was tempted to . . . well, the only way to explain it is to say to sit on my talents. To resist going for the gold for fear that I might miss out. To wonder if I’d get so caught up in “doing” that potential whatevers would get left in the dust, and that once I’d reached the pinnacle, there I’d remain—accomplished, successful, victorious, and alone. But something in this book spoke to me. The author speaks of her experience in this same struggle:

“So what does a woman do when her British boss and her aunt Bonnie from Texas, whom she barely ever sees, can smell her issues a mile away? when she realizes that, like the servant who hid his talent in the ground for fear that the master was a tyrant, she too has buried her talents for fear that God is perhaps a little twisted? when she faces her suspicion that God is someone who might give her gifts in communication, spiritual leadership, and vision that, if she were to use them fully, would sabotage the very desires of her heart for marriage and possibly a family? [ . . .]

Sitting behind my computer in my windowless office, staring at unfiled papers and a keyboard with dust in its crevices, I repented. God, I’ve buried the talents you’ve given me because I’ve feared how my life might go if I use them. I’ve been wrong. Please forgive me. Then—hoping no one would barge into my office while tears dribbled onto my keyboard, I laid that big pile of strengths and weaknesses, dreams and fears, down before him. Okay, God, my talents—and my desires—are yours. You gave them to me; now I’m giving them back to you, for you to do with them what you’d like. No more ineffective strategic hoarding and stingy distribution for my own purposes. [ . . . ]

Perhaps, though, whether we’re talent smushers or talent celebrators or somewhere in between, finding the answer to the question, How much of myself—my time, my energy, my abilities, my heart—do I give to a career? begins at the same place for all of us: acknowledging that we can’t control an unpredictable work or relational future. We can only face what’s real in the present, offer our talents back to the Talent Giver, and move forward with the best wisdom we have.”

She goes on to mention in the subsequent chapter how those who are the most satisfied in their work are those who “are using their strengths for something or someone greater than themselves.” Something clicked in my mind. The assurance that I’m where I need to be flooded over me. Teaching, the profession in which I’m engaged now, is something that is deeper to me than a job. It’s a calling. Investing in young minds is something greater than me. The potential my current students have is more than I am. And participating in increasing that potential satisfies me. God has given me the ability to speak another language fluently. I feel that I’m giving back to Him what He's given to me through translating during church services, teaching a Bible study in Spanish, and by teaching a free beginning Spanish class sponsored by the church.

In the end, I know that God has also given me the ability and the opportunity to progress using the talents He’s given me, and right now, the choice of whether I’m going to celebrate them or sit on them has to do with furthering my education. I cannot be afraid of the unknown and the unpredictable. I cannot be afraid of taking what I consider risky steps if those steps are ordered by God.