Few women I know like to be on stage—I certainly don’t, even though I speak at conferences and colleges. We feel self-conscious when we know others are watching. We feel uncomfortable under the gaze of others and would rather quietly step out of the spotlight and find shelter behind the curtains.
Yet the fact is, as followers of Jesus, you and I are on stage every day. Others are watching, especially if they are skeptical about Christianity. We can do our part well, building up the entire audience. Or, when trials assault us, we can ad-lib by acting out our resentments and bringing dishonor to the Playwright. The choice is ours.
It’s something I remember not only when I’m in public, but even in a casual setting with close friends. Many people know that I am a Christian, and I can either safeguard that sphere of influence or squander it through thoughtless words and careless actions. Perhaps you are known as a disciple of Christ, too; if so, you and I need to remember that God’s reputation is at stake in everything we say and do. The cosmic stakes are that high.
It’s why I keep an old, faded letter a Christian brother wrote to me decades ago. He handed it to me when I was just beginning to become somewhat known in Christian circles. Here’s a portion of that letter:
“So, Joni, when you’ve got to speak ten times in one week, when your jaw gets a little tired from smiling at well-wishers, when your back aches, when you’ve got a secret inner urge to be on your feet, but feel you can’t express it because folks around you would take it wrong, when the Bible seems boring, when you find sinful thoughts and attitudes creeping into your head, when you’re tempted to run mental movies of your success—in short, when you feel like carrying a smooth cross and slipping a bit, even ‘just for today’—don’t. Don’t do it. And don’t feel the hassle is in vain, because you honestly have got to be one of the mainstays in my life when it comes to setting an example when I feel like quitting.”
Whether speaking to crowds or just chatting with friends over a cup of coffee, my friend’s letter has served as my prudent guide for many years. Being 67 years old, I know the gospel has accrued some respect through my life and witness and, God help me, I just want to finish well.
This was on my heart when I recently penned the following devotional for my new book A Spectacle of Glory. If you are a Christ-follower, then I pray these words will strengthen your resolve to finish well, too:
I have been told, “Joni, God knows He can trust you with suffering. He knows your character; He knows you’re a strong person and that you’d respond well to hardships.” I say quite the contrary. I think God entrusts hardships to me because He knows that I know I can’t be trusted. I fully accept that I am the least likely candidate to handle affliction well. Honestly. I know how weak and stubborn I can be, how peevish and irritable. This is why I run to God daily for help! Oh, help me, Jesus, I can’t face another day of quadriplegia! When I go to God with that attitude, He lavishes upon me grace upon grace—all because I’m quick to recognize my weakness, His strength, and my utter dependency on Christ. If you desire the favor of God, be swift to appreciate how out-of-favor you’d be apart from Jesus. If you want the strength of God, be fast to realize how feeble and needy you are without Christ. When it comes to dealing daily with suffering, it really is all about Jesus.
The spotlight is on you, my friend. As a believer in Jesus, you have center stage. People you don’t even know are observing the way you respond to trials. Do your part well. Build up those in your sphere of influence. Bring honor to the King today—the choice is yours.
