Sitting in a window seat of a packed flight, I look around and notice that I’m surrounded by a sea of people all wearing headphones. Everyone is tuned into their own little world.
But then I look out the window and notice the amazing view. Large, fluffy clouds surround us, and when the clouds break away I can see neighborhoods, roads, rivers, and ponds.
An extraordinary view in the midst of an ordinary moment.
Seeing this breathtaking view from 35,000 feet up suddenly makes me feel so small and insignificant. I am just 1 person in this vast world. 1 out of billions. And if I compare myself to others, I feel even more insignificant.
I’ve been gluten-free (GF) for a little over 5 years. To find out why, click here. You don’t realize how much of your life and social activities revolve around food until you have a food allergy or sensitivity.
Here’s a little glimpse into my life….
At the end of every school year, I like to give my students a gift. Over the past 14 years, I’ve given lots of different gifts, such as books, candy, bubbles, and sunglasses. Last year, though, instead of spending lots of money, I spent my time writing tootle notes to each of my students. I was surprised to see how much they loved this gift. It was a simple piece of paper, but it meant a lot to them.
This year, I wanted to do something different, but I also wanted it to be meaningful.
As an introvert, I tend to process things internally. I choose my words carefully, and I often think about my words before I share them. I’m also careful about who I share my words with. Introverts usually aren’t the first ones to speak up, but God still created us with a voice that is meant to be heard.
For so many years, I wanted to speak about something that had happened in my life, but I couldn’t. The shame was so overwhelming that it silenced me. I could talk about a lot of things, but the words I needed to say the most would not come out.
As a kid, I remember my mom or dad would usually come to my bedroom to tuck me in at night. Then, before they would leave the room, I would often ask them to leave my bedroom door cracked open and the hallway light on. Like many kids, I was scared of the dark. In the dark, my imagination would run wild. Seeing that sliver of light from the hallway was enough to comfort me and enabled me to feel safe enough to fall asleep.
As I got older, the hallway light would be turned off, but we always had a night light plugged into the wall in the hallway. It’s amazing how a little glow of light can bring so much comfort.
Recently, Jennie Allen came to speak at my church’s annual Women’s Conference. Although I have heard Jennie speak through the IF: Gathering live streams, this was my first time hearing her speak in person.
I'm an ordinary introvert who loves an extraordinary God.