Everyday Use

People have been coming to me for advice since I was in middle school.

I've always had a knack for listening and a heart for nurturing, and I guess you can smell it on me. It's not uncommon for people to open up to me out of the blue. While it's not always easy, I'm so grateful that people trust me to walk beside them in whatever they're going through.

A few weeks ago, a young friend of mine confided that she was feeling conflicted about some recent decisions. "Talk to me," she urged.

And we did talk for hours that day. And more the next week.

Through all of this, I was forced to confront something that made me snicker: I didn't have conclusive answers for my friend. All I could give her was my experience, my own stories, and the lessons gained through an abundance of trial and error.

It's easy to want to control things, to wrap up every problem cleanly with a little bow of self-satisfaction. But life doesn't usually work that way.

That first night we talked, I laid in bed and stared at the ceiling, mulling it all over. A strange mix of feelings kicked around in my head — pride for my friend, her honesty and willingness to face her worries directly. Hope that she'll be able to make the right choices. A touch of nostalgia on recognizing that she is no longer just my goofy and idealistic young friend, but now a blossoming, courageous woman of God.

And deep down, a whisper of insecurity: I hope I did the right thing.

In some small way, what I experienced then was what I imagine every parent goes through as their child grows.

At the end of the day, we're human. We're limited. Try as we might, we don't know everything.

Yet in that experience, God was able to use me to help her. The relief after our talk was palpable. And all it took was being real about what I've gone through.

So many people believe that they need to be wise, gifted or otherwise important to make a difference in the world, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. Yes, Scripture might be full of some phenomenal people and situations, but more often than not they are just broken-down, stumbling and remarkably ordinary fools used for greatness.

That's a humbling thought, but also an incredible comfort: We really are worth something in God's eyes, despite our flaws and occasional stupidity. More than that, we are incredibly valuable.

And it's in those little, ordinary moments that grace waits for us. All we have to do is look around.