Your Gifts
Monday, February 15, 2010
By: Michelle Wiginton

Have you ever received a gift that you did not want, or had no use for, so you put it away in a dusty attic and never gave it another thought? Have you ever taken something for granted, only to find it taken from you for lack of use? Have you ever desired the gifts that others received, while not even opening the beautiful packages addressed to you? I have.

As a teenager, I liked to hear the frogs croaking around a pond at night and I would croak right along with them. When the Bee Gees sang on the radio, I pelted out each verse as if I was part of their backup band. Why, I even sang in church a time or two…then reality kicked in. My angelic voice was heard only in my head…what everyone else heard was the slow, painful wailing of a dying cat—I had not been blessed with a beautiful voice. While excited about my stick people pictures in kindergarten, I would see a beautiful scene and try to capture it on canvas…to be kind, I never progressed past the “stick man stage”—I had not been blessed with an artist’s eye. My gift is a present of prose.

I can tell you how I sat quietly on a rock with no discernable shape or size as it melded with the earth in a natural consummation of time and place. It is early spring and the thick, gray clouds that were visible only moments ago are bursting with fat drops of sky tears with which to bathe the new season with life. The sun has just set behind a craggy mountaintop that is crowned with sparse evergreens that stick up like unruly hair. It is cool. A damp, chilling breeze gently lifts my long hair and brings with it a thundering stampede of sound that splits open the heavens with a sharp dagger of light. The storm begins. The frogs’ song, no longer needed to bring on the rain, stops. The silence, with its audible voice, bids me go…this night is for the frogs.

I did not know that everyone did not think or write like me. I had no idea that writing could be a gift…much less that it was my gift. In school, I wrote because I had to and never because I felt led to or for pure fun. I loved to read what others wrote and spent most of my life with my head in a book. I have run into so many things trying to walk and read at the same time, that I have lost count…but I still keep on reading every chance I get. In college, I chose a journalism career. Not because I was interested in it, but because I could do it with little thought or effort. I loved essay questions!

The day that I knew I was a good writer was shared by only my father and me. What I wrote was about my Grandma and I drove all the way to his workplace to let him read my words, my thoughts, and my feelings. He cried. That is the day I became a writer. From that point on, I spent years in discovery…how could I use my writing for good? What kind of writing moved others? Where should I start? Those questions, plus many more, worked themselves out in my life as the Lord led me down the path He had chosen and for which He well equipped me. I found that it is easy to find and write about the bad and negative things in life. Anyone can do that. It is much harder to use words to lift up, encourage and support. Why? Because words put onto paper are final. You can never take them back, erase them, or pretend you never wrote them. Words weld great power and unshakable accountability.

I have been an editor for a newspaper, managing editor of two magazines, an international travel writer, author, copywriter and almost everything that a person can be in the writing world. I have tried to tell other people’s stories…from retired farmers to acclaimed artists to restaurant owners and innkeepers. Lives are shared through stories, but they cannot impact or influence others if they are never told. Everyone has wisdom, everyone has overcome obstacles, and everyone has influenced others in some way. I tell the coffee table, the before you go to bed and the quiet reflection stories that are meant to inspire, share secrets and confirm the goodness in mankind. I never tire of others telling me how they felt, what they saw, and how their lives were changed because of my words. I meet men and women in the grocery store checkout lanes and, once they find out who I am and what I have written, they express their great delight in and anticipation of my work. I guess that is how a singer feels when the applause starts or when an artist sells a painting that graces the home of a stranger.

Maybe you are reading these words and you are thinking, “I cannot write, sing or paint…” Well, God is so good to His children that we all receive gifts—every one of us. You may be an excellent mother who raises godly children, you may be a great cook who feeds the poor, you may be a prayer warrior, you may bless those who are homebound, you may listen well, you may teach Sunday school, you may greet individuals coming into the church, or you may even send cards of encouragement to others. Our talents do not limit God; we limit ourselves by how we use His gifts. I would love to have more time to write, but I am not blessed with time. I would love to teach at church more often, but I am not blessed with just one job. I would love to give more in the offering plate, but I am not blessed with tons of money. God’s gifts are given with the stipulation that you use them. If you do not sing, your voice will not mature. If you do not pray, you will never be a prayer warrior. If you do not look for your gift, you will never find it. 

God will give you many opportunities to discover and use your gifts, but it is up to you to take advantage of these times. Stepping out in faith will, sometimes, reveal hidden things about yourself that you never even knew existed. You will learn more about yourself, others but, most of all, you will learn more about God and how He always provides what we need, when we need it. If we are willing, He will make us able. If we are not willing, He will find someone who is…but that person will also receive the blessings that go along with serving. In writing, I do not write my own thoughts, words and feelings…they are truly God’s, as I could never voice things so complex and even begin to understand how things work together for our good. What if I was a writer with nothing to write about? What if God had never revealed to me His plan for my life? What if I had never been willing to live the sort of life that gave me so much to share? Thank God I will never know.

Now, when I see a beautiful painting, sculpture or photograph, I no longer wish I had done it. My thoughts turn to the one who made such beauty and how I might tell their story. When I hear an angelic voice singing, I no longer wish I had a microphone in my hand. My hands eagerly seek pen and paper and the opportunity to commune with another blessed soul. Children are given gifts, teenagers are given gifts, adults are given gifts and, yes, most certainly senior citizens are given gifts. Giving gifts delights God and allows us to give to others on His behalf. What is your gift? How do you use it for God? Do you need to take a trip to the attic and dust off anything you've forgotten you had once upon a time?

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lighs, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning. James 1:17

Roly Poly continues to grow and bless our lives...he is a gift to us!

Comments

Michelle, You are amazing! I'm glad God put me in your life! See you soon. Shanell Lightfoot Owner,DormStyled www.dormstyled.com

Shanell, Wednesday, February 17, 2010

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