A Small Spark

If we put bits into the mouths of horses so that they obey us, we guide their whole bodies as well. Look at the ships also: though they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are guided by a very small rudder wherever the will of the pilot directs. So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great things.  

How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire! 

James 3:3-5

To tell a story like mine is a serious thing.

Because the Judge of all the earth will try my words by fire, and He will have the final say. 

But until then, a few disclaimers:

Throughout this blog, I’ve maintained a commitment to telling my story as I experienced it, without censoring events or emotion. I have done my best not to withhold the truth of my experience for the sake of any reputation, including my own. You may sometimes find the events triggering or the stories hard to process. (You can find a full list of trigger warnings here.) In these areas, my hope is to use my voice for the good of the Church, not to divulge every possible failure, dysfunction, or traumatic detail. As you read my story, with all its joys and sorrows, may you always find the worship true, the light dazzling, and the Person of Jesus alive. In all these areas, my hope is to use my voice for the good of the Church, to give every possible detail of God’s power and tenderness.

In writing my story, I’ve gone through calendars, emails, text messages, journals, HR reports, and extensive notes I kept on conversations. While I have confidence in my experiences, this blog is—as the title denotes—my voice. The thoughts and opinions expressed here belong solely to me, and do not necessarily reflect the views of any other individual or organization. Occasionally, I have compressed conversations and events for the sake of brevity. In these cases, I have made every effort to preserve the tone and context of the situation.

The quotation marks I’ve used throughout this blog represent my best effort to recreate conversations as they happened. This includes my conversations with God. While I wholeheartedly affirm the voice of God, He is not contained by human language, and I sometimes find it difficult to convey what He says in exact words. I most often experience God’s voice as a flood of thoughts or mental pictures that can be paraphrased, but not quoted directly. I have done my best—with some fear and trembling—to accurately describe my experiences of God, but I recognize that my best efforts will fall short, and I pray you’ll extend grace when they do. 

I’ve intentionally told this story without names. I would ask that my readers honor my intent by not publicly commenting with my own name or the names of the people or organizations described in this story. While I believe it's important for names to be named, I would prefer not to do so in the context of this blog.

For a long time, the fear of using my voice wrongly has haunted me—the specter of James 3 wrapped like a straitjacket around my spirit. I have read this passage over and over and over again, questioning the wisdom of telling my story, asking God to help me find the truth about my voice.

And finally, I see it.

Because the Bible calls my voice fire and water, poison and fruit. A bridle that can rein in things of great power, a rudder that can guide against strong winds. When I was defenseless, God gave me poison that could kill the Enemy’s systems. When all the light had gone out, He gave me a spark that could set a whole forest ablaze. When my life was lost at sea, He gave me power to turn great ships. And though my voice is small, God calls it mighty.

And so I offer you my voice, and I pray it will be a gift to the Kingdom.

Because some ships need to turn.

Some things need to burn.

But mostly the miracles need to be told.