Jesus didnt have a Twitter

I had an epiphany the other day. It might seem petty or slightly dumb, but it was a light bulb nonetheless.

Jesus didn’t have a Twitter account.
The apostles didn’t have a blog.
And when the children of Israel marched around the walls of Jericho, they weren’t posting pictures on Instagram.

Sometimes we, (okay, I) get caught up in the hoopla. The hoopla of other people's approval, the need to know that what you’re doing or saying is good enough. That you are good enough and people are listening.

About a month ago I spoke at a women's conference down south. It was a big deal for me. I had prayed, cried and studied my heart out to prepare. I was nervous, and the night before I drove down there I was scheming how I could get out of it. Fake a migraine, head injury, cancer. I was scared but I knew I had to do it. My prayer the whole time was that I would be so passionate, so convicted by what God had shown me, that I wouldn’t need my notes. I would be so moved to tell what I had learned.  I was excited, but petrified. The racing questions of doubt that never seem to cease were there in force. What do I have to say that is so dadgum important? Why do they want to listen to me? I am 24, never married (or dated, for that matter), I don't have kids and, quite frankly, have never been through much of a traumatic experience. So why am I here, microphone tapped to my cheek, about to go in front of 150 plus women, the majority of them years wiser than me, and tell them I know something they don’t.

Then I stepped up, opened my mouth and didn't need my notes. Why? Cause I am not Jesus but He is in me.

All of those questions of self doubt could be answered with one simple truth that would have to be said over and over and over and over.

It’s not you.

After that weekend, I was feeling fantastic. I loved every second of it. It felt natural, comfortable and, dare I say, I think I did a good job.  I was feeling confident that God had answered my prayers and wanted honest feedback. My mom was in the audience and videotaped a snippet or two of one of my sessions, so I sent the videos to a few people that I trusted. People whose opinion I value and I knew would be honest. I wanted feedback: was this where God had gifted me?

A few weeks before the conference I had submitted an article to an organization called The Good Women Project. It was on a whim and I had forgotten I even sent it to them. But late one night as I was trying to go to sleep, I got an email informing me they thought it was "fabulous. We are publishing it tomorrow!" I was giddy. I did the whole kicking and squealing girly thing. I texted people who I knew would be awake and would share my excitement. The next few days were a cluster of Tweets, Facebook likes, comments and positive feedback. I was getting random twitter followers and my personal blog (the one you are reading) was getting up to 200 hits per day. I even got an inquiry about helping with a book!

I felt like I was on a roll and God was finally saying "it’s your turn."

Today, the hoopla has died. Those videos I sent to the people that I wanted honest feedback from? Not one of them responded to me. The article is now a few weeks old and therefore old news. My blog is back to roughly 20 views and that person who wanted my help on their book never got back to me.

It’s days like today that I question what I am doing. Why do I write? No one reads it. Why did I get to experience the feeling of "this is where I belong" only to have it die down?

The questions of doubt resurface daily as I look ay myself and think, "What do I have to say, anyhow?"

Then I remember:
Jesus didn’t have a Twitter account.
The apostles didn’t have a blog.
And when the children of Israel marched around the walls of Jericho, they weren’t posting pictures on Instagram.

They didn't know how many "likes," re-tweets or comments they piled up.  They loved God, therefore they loved people and therefore God's name was being glorified. Do I write for people to read it? Do I desire to speak so people can hear me? No. I write no matter what, published on here or not. I speak even if no one is listening (believe me, I'm a talker). The fact of the matter is, the Holy Spirit is not dead and He uses a variety of vessels to speak to us and, when we are that vessel, He speaks through us. I listen to other people, I read dozens of blogs and what other people are sharing  when God has shown them something. I am no different.

We love Jesus. He speaks to us. So read, write, speak, tweet. You might surprise yourself.