Sunday Huddle

Ordinarily Ordinary By Lisa Bull

Ordinarily OrdinaryI’m not good enough.

I’m not smart enough. I’m not pretty enough. I’m not articulate enough. I’m not funny enough. I didn’t finish college. I made mistakes (BIG UGLY MISTAKES). I’m not professionally trained.

I’m so very ORDINARY.

It’s interesting to me that in the last two days I’ve had two conversations with two different people about destiny. The question? “What am I supposed to be doing with my life?” Here I am, in my (cover your eyes) forties, trying to figure out my purpose. How is that even possible? Where did time go? How did time just slip through my fingers without me noticing? I suppose I was too busy getting married, having babies, raising children, and chasing teenagers to consider my own life.

I don’t regret any of those things. And, looking back, raising two fine young men was my purpose at that time. It was my joy to teach them about Jesus and do my best to raise them the way God instructed me to. But, now–well, now they need me less and less. It’s time for me to figure out who God wants me to be.

When I started this webpage and my new Facebook page, I struggled with the name. With the encouragement of my sisters-by-choice, I finally decided on Lisa Bull, Writer. I still have a hard time with this. I’m not an author. I’m not famous. And, I can only imagine what the people who have known me forever think when they see the title. I DO write though. My brain fills with thoughts and they flow out of my fingers. Sometimes it feels like if I don’t share my thoughts, my brain might explode. (I stole that expression from my girl, Sarah.)

I do sense that God has something to say through me. I do feel that I have something important to share. However, when someone I know comes up to me and says, “I didn’t know you write,” I freeze. Ever heard the expression, “like a deer caught in headlights”? Me. Totally me. Inside I’m screaming, “Please don’t ask me about my writing! Please don’t ask me if I’ve written a book!

Please don’t ask me what I write about! Please just turn around and walk away!”

I’m not good enough–the feeling literally wraps itself around me and starts to smother me.

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