Years ago, I wanted to pass through life safely. Unnoticed. Never picked on. Unhurt. Just here and then gone, like a momentary whisper of wind. Death is like that. Death does not feel. Death does not speak. Death does not care. To live like that is to live death.
But that’s not what God wanted for me. And, thankfully, I submitted to His plan, eschewing my own. I am still a loner, but a social one. I’m not lonely; I’m content with my own company. I have no desire for a companion with whom to walk through life. That sounds, for lack of a better word, bad. In fact, it’s not. I have realised that what will be will be, and that whether I stay unmarried or anything or not, I have constant companionship in the Holy Spirit and in the friendship of others.
Years ago, I did not want the responsibility of having influence. I wanted to be able to say what I wanted without consequence, without consideration, without fruit. And I thought that was freedom. But we are all of us people of influence. Small or great, it’s there, like it or not. And this calls us to be have in a manner befitting a human with a mind and a conscience, not some dumb beast concerned only with what it needs, what it wants, never mind the cost.
I am a person of influence. I don’t mean that in an arrogant sense. What I say has some effect on others–it’s just the way it is. Not on all others, but on some. This is no grounds for censorship–it is grounds for mindfulness. To think before I rant. To consider before I spew. It is part of the responsibility of living as a child of God, as a member of that Family.
Years ago, God told me, “Remember who you are.” He is still showing me. And I remember. And I am humbled. And if it is waves that God wants to make through me or if it is ripples, I am content and eager to be used. And in that, I am at peace.