My fingers are rusty. Like tools that have been left out in the yard and weathered one too many rainstorms. Sometimes it feels like if you neglect a gift for long enough then the gift is ruined beyond repair, like those tools warping in the rain. Are my fingers rusted beyond repair? Is there any hope of their restoration? Is the connection that once blazed between my soul and my typing hands severed for good?
I suppose the connection might be lost forever, the gift utterly destroyed, if I didn't believe in the redemptive work of my Father in Heaven. As His priceless daughter, I have come to understand that it is never too late and no one is ever too far gone, no gift is ever so rusty that the Father can't gently polish it and repair it to make it even better than new. No gift is so neglected by life's demands, or hurts, or trials, or even the simple chaos of parenthood that God can not redeem it in HIS timing to shine like the sun once again for HIS glory.
My rusty fingers and disjointed connections will fire up again if I am willing to do the hard work of surrendering my stubborn heart to the words that God wants to speak through me. If I am willing to sit in the quiet and wait for His voice so that I can then plunk out the stories in my heart with bravery and courage. If I am willing to step outside of my safe and protected little world and risk a little comfort for something greater than myself.
Sometimes all it takes is a simple,
"Here I am Lord. I am willing. Use me."
"Here I am Lord. I am willing. Use me."
