Jack of all trades, master of none here reporting for duty!
My husband would chide me for not finishing the saying out: “though oftentimes better than a master of one.” In a world that often demands specialising and narrowing your focus, I am the complete opposite. “You have so much to offer and can do so many things,” people will tell me with sincerity when I’m considering a new career path. But a varied CV often doesn’t look that great in an over-saturated job market or when you’re trying to write a book with some sort of authority. Maybe my jack-of-all-trades book should be about how to make the cake, photograph it, write about it and eat it too? That sounds a little self-centred.
Yet, that’s where I’m at. In a world that loves a flow chart, I’m a multi-coloured Venn diagram where it seems like not a lot overlaps. So really, I’m just a bunch of coloured circles on a page.
Here’s what I love about my story though: I love that I didn’t choose any of my biggest life changes. I didn’t author a single one. I simply said yes.
From singing to photography to having kids to moving back to Scotland to grant writing to making donuts…every single one was not on my radar when it happened. Though they all required a ‘yes’ from me none of them were what I would have chosen for my life. But thank you Jesus, they were all written into my story.
You see, I’ve had moments where I’ve feared what’s next. I’ve had moments where I’ve feared that some of my greatest dreams would go unrealised. I still do. But any time I fear I’m always reminded of 1 Kings 19 and how it reflects my own experience of the unmistakable, never been surer of anything else in my life, crystal clear voice of God. I know, that sounds a bit crazy and unbelievable (luckily I’m then reminded of 1 Corinthians 1 & 2 that acknowledges how foolish Christianity sounds to those outside of it. It’s comforting to know I can look foolish but be completely at peace.). 1 Kings 19 tells the story of Elijah who fled to a cave to hide from those who were persecuting him. God finds him there and asks what he’s doing, though God already knows. God then shows his power by destroying mountains through wind, causing earthquakes and releasing fire: but God wasn’t IN the wind, the earthquake or the fire. His might was behind them but he wasn’t the destruction.
In the story, after the destruction there is a silence. It’s in this silence where God is and to which Elijah responds by stepping out of the cave. God is not a silent God. But when the world is noisy and when our lives are noisy, sometimes the best way God can speak is through silence. When I hear from God about the next steps in my life, it’s often heard as a silence and a stillness that slices through every other thought, action and word. It’s a piercing calm that my mind cannot make on its own. I’m incapable of stopping the swirling noise inside and outside of me to create such a pinpoint moment of discernment. When I’m faced with a time of uncertainty I wait for the silence: a silence that only God can bring to my chaos.
