Do Not Be Dismayed

I don’t know how it is with you, but sometimes an idea for a blog simply falls into my head and it writes itself. This is not one of those times. However, I do have the word, “encouragement” in my head and that may be enough to take us somewhere useful. Stick with me and we’ll see.

In my early thirties, having been a Christian for a few years, I decided to do an Alpha course. On the Holy Spirit weekend, God spoke to me. To my horror, He appeared to be suggesting that I should be baptised. During long conversations, I pointed out that I was not yet good enough to take the plunge (as it were) and that it might be best to wait a bit until I had progressed a little further along the straight and narrow. He had other ideas and I found myself at a specially convened weekly group with around seven other people, going through the process of thinking and praying about the whole business. 

Back then, the thought of standing up and speaking in front of people terrified me. At my church, baptism services were held in the evening, the building packed with friends and family, an air of joy and celebration hanging over the whole place like a beautiful golden mantle. I had attended plenty of them and been inspired, uplifted and moved by the testimonies I heard. I wasn’t so sure about doing one myself. However, I reassured myself with the thought that at least I wouldn’t be alone up there. My friends would be with me, also shaky and nervous, also unsure of what to say. 

As the weeks progressed, one by one they all dropped out, for entirely credible reasons. By the end it was just me and a creeping sense of realisation that the Lord had a plan and that it was jolly well going to happen, in spite of my protests. 

Each week I presented myself at the manse for my baptism course. The minister and his wife were the most delightful people and I felt at ease with them. One week, Gerry addressed the topic of spiritual gifts. “It may well be that the Lord wants to give you a spiritual gift when you’re baptised,” he said. “It often happens that way. Shall we pray into it?” 

Rather than making my excuses and leaving, I squeaked, “Oh yes, let’s do that!” We closed our eyes and assumed the standard Baptist prayer position (head bowed, hands loosely clasped on lap ready to open if required). Gerry prayed a beautiful prayer and an onlooker would have assumed that I was also entreating the good Lord to bestow gifts upon me. 

This was not the case.

 My actual prayer, if you could call it that, was more like this. 

“OK God, if you are going to give me a gift, and thank you very much in advance, please, please, please can you not make it one of those embarrassing ones. Can I have a nice, quiet one? You know, one I can use discreetly in the background. Thank you. Amen.” 

At my baptism, the church was packed. Many friends and family came, a fair few non-Christians. With God’s help, I overcame my nerves and delivered my testimony. Standing in the pool as everyone sang my favourite song, I noticed that my homegroup leader, also up to his waist in water, was frowning slightly. 

“I think God is telling you that He’d like to give you a spiritual gift, Ruth,” he said thoughtfully. 

I smiled beatifically, while reminding Him in my head of my earlier request. 

What was this gift? Encouragement. Gosh, I was relieved! A nice, quiet one, just as I’d requested. Something I could use every time I spotted a person who was in need of a bit of a holy lift. My heart was light as I changed out of my wet clothes and dried my hair. 

The after-party was held in the church hall. I forgot all about my gift as I chatted and laughed with everyone, a new peace in my heart. One of my dearest friends, a woman I looked upon on as a spiritual mentor, walked over and I saw that her eyes were red with crying. She’d had a terrible fight with her husband and was ground down with worry and fear. I opened my mouth and out came lots of words. When I finished speaking, there was a short silence. 

“Ruth, how did you know that was exactly what I needed to hear?” she asked. “That was such an encouragement.” 

And then it hit me. All of this was so much bigger than me. God knew. He knows. When I lie awake at night, fretting, or sit in front of my laptop convinced I’ll never write another word that anyone wants to read, or worry about things I can’t change, He’s there, using me and you to further the Kingdom and to build up His church. 

Isn’t that amazing? It’s hit me afresh as I write these words. If He can use a reluctant sinner like me, He can use anyone. 

So many stories, some told, many not. Sometimes when I read the MTW blog, I see it as a flock of beautiful golden butterflies, swooping and darting, taking our words far and wide and placing them just where they need to be. It might be that someone reading this is in need of encouragement. Since it’s 4.30 in the morning and I haven’t slept a wink and last time this happened it was because God needed me to say something particular in my blog, I suspect this may be the case. 

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Isaiah 41:10.

Images by Pixabay

Ruth is a novelist and freelance writer. She is married with three children, one husband, assorted poultry and a cat. She is the author of “The Diary of Isabella M Smugge” and “The Trials of Isabella M Smugge” and is currently writing "The Continued Times of Isabella M Smugge". She writes for a number of small businesses and charities, reviews books for Reading Between the Lines and blogs at ruthleighwrites.co.uk. You can find her on Instagram, Facebook and Twitter at ruthleighwrites and at her website, www.ruthleighwrites.co.uk.