Courage at Cino's

I arrived to serve on Leadership Conference for the week like this, but I knew God was faithful and would give me the energy I needed. More than that. I knew that Leadership Conference, a week spent in the company of young people, good teaching, and hands on work would be what I needed. The chance to feel good at something again. The chance to see—with my own eyes—the impact of all the behind the scenes work I had been entrenched in for months. To see Jesus touch lives. 

Which I did. Oh, how I did. We heard well over fifteen testimonies from the kids on the last night. Each one so different, yet so full of God's grace. I saw them rise to the challenges over the week, and become confident, strong, assured. I saw kids open up to the love they were experiencing. I saw leaders connecting deeply with one another. We laughed. Cried. Prayed. It felt like I'd gone from trying to breathe underwater to being yanked to the surface to take a deep breath from an oxygen mask. 

I returned home at the end of the week, and spent a day with my family, reminiscing the week and catching up with one another. I was mostly present, but I was also preoccupied by the need to finish my sermon for the following day. I preached at my church twice that Sunday, and I knew I was going to crash as soon as I got back to the empty house I was staying at. I was completely done. 

I went to bed at 10pm and didn't set an alarm. I awoke sometime this morning and stayed in bed, dozing in and out until I finally decided to get up. It was almost midday, the longest I've slept in for years (if ever). There was work I could've done, but I decided my soul needed a break. My pantry and fridge also needed restocking. Grabbing my Bible and my journal, jotting down a quick list of groceries, then grabbing my keys, I headed for the mall two minutes around the corner. 

I decided I would go treat myself to breakfast (even though at this point in time it was more like lunch) and sit and read my Bible; maybe journal for a while. My phone had gone flat as I'd lost my charger over the week, so I went to Big W first and bought a portable charger. On the way there, I'd noticed Cino's Cafe, and it looked full, so I dismissed it. A quick wander through the rest of the floor however didn't yield anything that looked cozy or out of the way enough, so my feet eventually returned to the doorway of Cino's, and I waited to be seated.

I was greeted by a cheerful young man, who led me to a place at the bench looking out over the plaza. I sat down and allowed myself to take a breath. My mind was still quite cloudy, but I pulled out my Bible preparing to read Philippians for our next church series topic. As the young man returned to take my order, it took him what felt like a minute to get his first syllable out. 

"D-d-d-d-d-d—did you want to order now?"

I told him my order swiftly, thanking him as he confirmed it and went on his way. If only I could have returned to my thoughts as easily. 

It had been a difficult few months for me with work. Strange, how I can love my job and all it stands for and yet find it so challenging at the same time. I'd been feeling constantly out of my depth, drowning in all that I could do and struggling to be sure of what I should do. There were people to meet, events to coordinate, meetings to run, paperwork to process, and I felt as I though I'd spent the majority of my time mustering up the courage for all the demands I could feel pressing in on me. "Mustering up" is a phrase I've heard Brené Brown use for trying to build up courage to face the challenges of life, and it feels like my modus operandi these days; the only way to push back the rising anxiety and fear that deep down, I am simply not cut out for this job. 

So to see this young man with a very apparent stutter waiting on me, a job that requires an awful lot of speaking, floored me. I sat there, staring out across the mall watching the assortment of people walk by, and my eyes misted over. I felt shame for myself. Here was a guy who had showed up for a job where talking to people was at the heart of it, and he had a stutter. I don't, and I still often quail to pick up the phone to a stranger. I watched him greet the next set of people to arrive, and behind me I could hear him confirming their order, pausing on the start of almost every other word to wrestle through the syllable before he finished. He apologised, and I heard everyone at the table affirm him and tell him he was fine, and I could hear the encouragement in their voices. Tears welled in my eyes, and I couldn't contain them. It was an effort to compose myself before my meal arrived.

My Bible was open, and I moved slowly through Philippians, savouring each word as I savoured every bite of my eggs benedict and sip of good coffee. However my heart felt bruised. I felt both challenged, and caught out. It was no coincidence I ended up at this cafe. I even thanked God when I walked in, because I'd wanted breakfast, and it happened to be an all-day breakfast cafe. I was alone, surrounded by strangers, and yet God used someone to pierce my heart to the core. I don't know if the young man knows God, but if not, if he can have such courage to show up at a job that much of the world would tell him he is unqualified for, why can't I? All my excuses and validations seemed to fall to the ground empty. 

It threw new light on the Scripture when I arrived at Philippians 4:13, I can do all things through Christ Who strengthens me. Why don't I live like that? Clearly it's possible. I have Christ. While I have striven not to allow fear to dictate my life, it has been exhausting fighting against it. What if I realised I have no reason to fear? What if I viewed everything as possible, not because of anything I can bring, but because of Who is with me? How much more peace I would have then, and maybe not even need the courage I have been working so hard to muster up. 

I turned over the serviette at the end of my meal and wrote a note:

To the young man who served me: thankyou. Your courage inspired me today. I am not good at my job, and so often I feel afraid. You have reminded me that we don't have to be perfect, we just have to show up. Thankyou for your courage. Keep showing up. Philippians 4:13. God bless.

It's evening now, and sitting here at my computer I'm thinking of a song by Ben Rector.

I've been scared to death of failing
Scared that I'd look like a fool
And I'd rather quit than risk that I could lose 
And I'm not proud of that position, no
But it's the hand that I've been dealt
But as far as I'm concerned that hand can go to hell 

Chase me down outside of Georgia
And I was sure that I was done
Something in me would not turn around and run
I heard the Lord in California
And I remembered who I was when I learned to dance with the fear that I'd been running from.

And I remembered who I was when I learned to dance with the fear that I'd been running from. Maybe I'm remembering who I'm meant to be, and these are my first steps in that dance.