One of my least favorite social settings is one in which a room is filled with strangers or mere acquaintances, and I am expected to mingle and get to know someone new. It is awkward and uncomfortable, as I typically end up in conversation tennis, rather than actually engaging in an interchange. Then, if that weren’t uncomfortable enough, the next step after sharing a meal, was to all be seated in a circle where volunteers took turns sharing their thoughts on the topic raised. I was asked a direct question in the beginning, so I thought I was home-free. I had stepped out of my safety and answered a question. Okay, off the hook, now I can relax and observe. Or so I thought. It was working for a while. Thoughts and words would enter my consciousness, and my heart began to pound like a bass drum in a marching band during a parade. I at times wondered if others were actually able to hear the seemingly audible sound. Fortunately, each time the pounding started to peak, someone else would speak out and allow me to remain in my silent safety.
Then, as our time was coming to a close, the pounding began to squeeze in my chest to near panic, and it felt as though my heart had traveled up to my throat. That need-to-vomit feeling found way to my gut, and I knew that I had arrived at the moment of truth; my choice was to either exit and make peace with the porcelain, or I would have to give in and actually speak. So, with trembling hands and a voice to match, I spoke the words that were screaming in my soul. Terror tore into my heart as transparency transpired. All eyes did not spin and gawk at me, rather my words were acknowledged and another person stepped up and spoke. No finger-pointing or looks of horror, just noted words by prayerful hearts. Our time together ended and we all parted ways. Though my heart was still pounding and my hands were still trembling, I managed to gather my guys and escape with a smile on my face.
God’s grace is sufficient, and His strength is made perfect in my weakness. His words resound, when I allow my voice to be found. I am called to step out in faith, and because faith is a verb, it requires action. Momentum must be maintained, or it is no longer a form of faith. I want to walk by faith and not by sight. I desire to step out beyond what I see as possible, and allow God to make all things possible. Again I surrender my own strength, and choose to forge forward with unfailing faith in my heavenly Father.
© Shannon Elizabeth Moreno and Revelations in Writing, May 2011 – present