“But, Lord,” I argued, “I’m a nobody from nowhere!”
How many times did I say this to God as an argument against starting a writing/speaking ministry? I’m a nobody from nowhere — just a country girl who prefers bare feet to Pradas, a cookout on the patio to dinner at Delmonico’s, and a vacation camping in the Ozarks to a cruise around the Greek isles. (Okay, maybe not that last one!)
The truth? I was so fearful that it was not God calling me to write but my own flesh. I knew my pride; I battled it daily. I taught college Sunday School classes and loved it, and I think my students loved me. I relished in my women’s Bible studies and they seemed to enjoy them, too. I truly enjoyed the strokes to my pride they gave me.
How embarrassing would it be to write something, submit it, and then get rejected? Or, what if it was accepted, published, and then no one but my family and closest friends bought the book? I mean, who would want to read, much less purchase, something by a common Jane like me?
“No, God, I can’t write. I’m a nobody from nowhere.”
When I finally stopped whining, I heard God speak. “A nobody from nowhere? My child, that’s all I’ve ever used! Jeremiah was one of the poorest of Judah’s poor. David was the baby of 8 boys and relegated to sheep duty. Ruth was a widow and an alien in Israel. Gideon was the least person in the weakest clan of Manasseh. Moses was a runaway murderer. Joseph was a young, imprisoned slave. Abraham lived on the other side of nowhere. And Adam? Just a pile of dust.
“You see, my daughter, your focus is all wrong. This is not about you; it’s about Me. You may well be a “nobody,” but I am God. And I will be with you.”
But Moses said to God, “Who am I that I should go…?”
And God said, “I will be with you…”
When I picked my repentant self up off the floor, I knew He was right. I was too big in my own sight and God was too small. A “nobody” is “somebody” when walking arm-in-arm with God!
Let’s go, LORD!