“What breaks my heart?” This is the question Andy Stanley challenged his church to think about and answer in his recent video series. My answer to this question is all over the place. Children who are sick and not receiving proper medication or affection. Hurting people who are lonely and left on the outskirts of community. Mistreated animals that cannot protect themselves. The list goes on and on. Andy also asks, “What can you do about it?” This brings the question into focus for me. How has God created me uniquely to address something that breaks my heart? So to answer the second and first question, I need to ask myself ‘how has God created me and what can I do that no one else can do?’

This I can answer more specifically by thinking about my gifts. I know for certain that God has gifted me to look for, seek out, and celebrate the beauty of his creation. This is something I have been practicing for a number of years and a skill I have honed for His glory. Whether it’s counting 1000 gifts, or using my photography skills to capture a moment in nature that most others would pass by, or using words to take a picture to a new level, God has clearly given me a heart for catching beauty in this world and a desire to show it off when I find it. This, I am passionate about. This, fills my sails and gives me peace. I do this with people too. I love to notice the small quiet ones, the shy understated voices trying to speak. Transforming students’ perception of their self into one of empowerment is something that excites me. Seeing someone gain confidence in who they are and that their ideas matter, that their choices matter, that they can make a difference gives me great pleasure.

Why do I get excited to encourage others? Because that is what happened to me. I was a shy child with a vivid imagination. I lived out adventures in my mind and explored daringly as a young girl, but in school I was quiet. I was intimidated by the confident ones, the loud ones, the energetic and funny ones. I watched. I waited. I often responded in my mind to a teacher’s question but would never risk failure, embarrassment, or reproof. This was me, until about my junior year in college.

It was a slow boil, I didn’t wake up talkative one day. It was rather, a building of confidence from small victories, of voices that encouraged to take further leaps, and of people who believed I had something worth listening to. There were people too. Professors who noticed my artistic talent and said, “look here at this work.” Parents who learned to listen and relate to my young adult heart. Grades that got better with hard work. Books that became more clear with perseverance and persistence of study. The world of Boston became my mountain to climb and conquer as an explorer of all the culture and community I could find.

The quiet, shy girl woke up. And the world filled me with delight. I had so much to explore. And wanted to share my thoughts and ideas with those around me. So you see, God had gifted me it turns out. I was creative. I was artistic. I had a voice, and a mind, and interesting ideas. And finally, I had the courage to share those with others. So what breaks my heart that is also something I can do something about is when young people don’t see how wonderfully made they are. When the light doesn’t shine from them because of fear, or intimidation, or oppression I want to step in. I want to shout look at the beauty I can see in you. Look at all you have to offer this world. So, that is where I want to pour my energy and time – helping others see their worth, find their voice, and encourage and empower them to use their gifts to their fullest potential.

I stand on this precipice now. Looking back at my journey, looking forward at the road ahead and gather my courage to step hoping the invisible bridge, the hand of God, gently holds my step and places it where it needs to go. All that I am, all my education, my training as a teacher, as a mother, as a friend, my 50 years of life lived in good times and hard times, my story begins a new chapter. Bravely, I step out, calling to my God, “I’m here, send me!”