I’m an insecure person who has the unfortunate habit of saying everything that comes to my mind. This has caused me much grief, primarily because it has caused my friends and family even more grief.
My propensity to say what comes to mind has made the art of communication a somewhat daunting task. Every week I’m confronted with dangerous probability. Every day of the week and every hour of the day, there is a good chance I will say or write something that simply should not have escaped my mind.
To make matters worse, my insecurities are just waiting for me to fail. They lurk in the corners of my mind, ready to give hindsight advice. “Why on earth did you say that? I can’t believe you wrote that column. What’s wrong with you?”
In fact, I’m mindful of those insecurities right now. Particularly because my mind is presently racing with many frustrations. Frustrations which evoke countless questions that seem unanswerable. Even so, I still have a strong desire to share these unsettling thoughts. However, when I actually verbalize my thoughts or feelings, I am not satisfied by the reactions or answers I receive. All responses fall flat. Instead of being comforted, I find myself feeling more distant, frustrated, and alone. I am simply not satisfied in the sharing.
Even as I share this struggle, I am tempted to judge my own words. To question the wisdom of letting my readers in on these vulnerabilities. I become my own accuser. “Why are you writing about your neuroses? Some thoughts are better left unspoken.”
Sometimes I want to be the answer man or the testimony man. I want to save the world with my solutions, with my God-given strengths. But that is not the reality of my life. For every strength in me, there are many weaknesses. For every solution I’ve found, there are many problems I simply cannot answer.
The plain truth is my testimony also is one of weakness and vulnerability. Sometimes my most honest answer is “I don’t know what to do!” Lately, that has been my answer for many areas of my life. Lord, I don’t know how to grow a church. Jesus, I don’t know how to provide for my family. God, I don’t know what to do!
No matter how hard I try to conceal my inner man, God sees me as I am. He sees the naked man … the man who doesn’t want to admit that he is actually naked. So I’m continually at an impasse; do I let people see the actual man or do I pretend to be the answer man? Do I carefully craft your answer or do I admit to my need for grace, my need for comfort, my need for love?
This too is my story, this too is the reason I write and preach: to let you know that I am weak, but God is strong. From beginning to end, my strength is found in Jesus.
So once again, I’m letting you into the insecure corners of my mind, hoping that in sharing with you the undone man, you may feel that God is not so far off. God doesn’t wait for the strong, wise and mature to find him. Instead he chooses foolish, insecure loudmouths to bring his good news to the world.
And this is good news. That God works through me, even when I feel a bit broken down. This is what I truly believe and frankly I couldn’t hide if I tried. I have this annoying habit of saying and writing whatever comes to my mind.
Doug Bursch hosts “The Fairly Spiritual Show” at 10 a.m. Saturdays on KGNW 820 AM. He also pastors Evergreen Foursquare Church. Evergreen meets Sundays at 10 a.m. at the Riverside High School Theater. He can be reached at www.fairlyspiritual.org or doug@fairlyspiritual.org.
