Burried Treasure

            Yesterday I was told that I was “entertaining to be around.” I am not quite sure how to take that, as some “entertaining” people can be purely obnoxious and more of a bother then anything. I wonder if it’s because I have an altered filter when it comes to my thoughts and most of the time say just what everyone one else is thinking. Every other staff meeting, when we are reminded to fill out our timesheets, I outwardly praise the Lord. Everyone else just chuckles, but I know they are excited to receive that deposit just as much as I am.

            What is scary is I do have a filter and people are blessed to not have to hear everything that goes through my brain. It’s the curse passed down from my father I presume. (Love ya Pops) Along with this curse, comes the overly creative lives I write up for strangers when I find myself in a place of solitude. For example: the airport. I have 3 hours to kill in the oh-so-hated terminal of Atlanta and am bored past the point of no return. So I shyly scope out the terrain and decide to pin-point an innocent bystander. In my world, the lonesome man on his blackberry originally hails from the big city of Manhattan. He is a city boy through and through- probably never having actually been to the real Georgia, only having ever seen the airport and a conference room. He is impatient as he taps his foot on the ground, leaning against the pole, briefcase in hand. But as I start to analyze closer, I realize how uncomfortable he truly is. That monkey suit he is in? He can’t seem to stop shifting. The reason he is on his phone is because he is still trying to figure out the whole BBIM thing. He really wishes it was an iphone and will always wonder what life would be like without a cubicle and his hovering boss. (And that was just a snippit, cause in reality this man doesn’t even notice me)

            Along with this intrusive imagination (although is it really intrusive if the strangers never know?), is the uncanny ability to talk to strangers. (I can’t imagine having me as a child) For example, once again: flying. This past trip to California, I not only met Henry and Nick from Virginia on their way to Reno for a bowling tournament, I also introduced them to my seat partner Juan from Port St. Lucie who works for the US Postal Service, as we waited at baggage claim.

            I have been told I am easy to talk to and it’s a gift. I don’t quiet understand that, partly because me talking and enjoying finding out about other peoples lives is an absolute thrill to me. I am intrigued by how other people live and why they got where they are currently residing. Put me in a room full of strangers, and I am completely comfortable.

            Yet, I do know not everyone is like that. Probably a good thing. After all, we were made in God’s perfect image.

I am mulling over these things for a reason.

“He also who had received two talents came and said, ‘lord, you delivered to me two talents; look, I have gained two more talents besides them.’ His lord said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant; you have been faithful over a few things, and I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord.’” Matthew 25:22-23

We all have gifts. I believe some come naturally, while others allow us to be stretched and broken. It is for us to realize what the Lord desires from us. My fear is that I become so comfortable in my natural gifts, that I bury my talents in the ground- too afraid of what God might do with them. When I get to heaven I don’t want to see a pile of unopened boxes in the corner and wondering why those gifts were never given to me. I don’t want to be afraid to ask for them.

I also know that God desires for us to do big things, glorious things for His Kingdom.

So the question remains: What are your gifts and have you buried them?