Jennifer Kostick– Jennifer has been married for twenty-three years to her high school sweetheart, Paul. She is the mother of three children, Paul IV (22), Samuel (6), and Grace (6). She also has six babies residing in heaven. It is those six tiny souls who have propelled her into women’s ministry. She is a conference speaker and author of the book Nothing to Hold but Hope (one woman's journey through miscarriage, stillbirth, and infertility). Jennifer blogs at www.Jenniferkostick.com and is passionate about encouraging women through a godly message of mercy and hope.
She had no idea I was listening, but I couldn’t help myself. She was walking step-for-step next to me while telling her friend she was on the way to her dying mother’s bedside. Her sister had just called to deliver the news.
Have I mentioned how shy I am? It’s bizarre. I can lead worship, speak, or do practically anything on a stage involving ministry, but one-on-one with strangers in Walmart… forget it.
The panic in her voice was overriding what I could tell was an otherwise peaceful, velvety tone. Anyone witnessing this would quickly understand she was breaking. Fast.
I prayed. It’s all I could do. I kept thinking that if I was someone else – different in personality somehow, that maybe I would have the guts to tell a perfect stranger I was praying. After all, maybe no one else had ever told her that.
Condemnation quickly swept over me like one of those waves in the ocean that catches a person off guard. The kind that snatches you back in for just one more swim, against your will, when all you really want to do is get to the beach.
There is no condemnation in Christ.
As I loaded my purchases in the car, I kept wondering what I could have done differently. That is until that still, small voice which is ever so faithful to interrupt the condemning voice of shame spoke softly and said, “I put you there to pray for her, just pray.”
After forty-two years, I’m finally grasping the concept that it’s in moments I feel worst about myself that God is working to do His best.
I wasn’t meant to grab that girl, tell her I was praying, and become fast friends. I wasn’t meant to make any type of tangible mark on her life with my own hands. I was meant to pray for God’s hands to leave the mark.
It’s all about Him.
We don’t often think our minuscule trips to the store for paper plates, crayons, and milk will lead to a move of God, but God never stops moving. Even at Walmart! He’s constantly throwing people into our paths to bring beauty to the everyday monotony of life.
Maybe you’re home changing diapers and wondering if you’ll ever get your chance to do the things you were called to do. Well, I can say with all certainty that you’re doing them right now and probably don’t even realize it.
Whenever we find ourselves praying for the passing ambulance or smile at the miserable lady in the produce aisle, we have to believe we are making a difference.
This life is meant for something so much bigger than we can even begin to comprehend.
Every silent prayer whispered from our hearts is meant to mark the life of someone who needs it. We don’t have to be on stage to make a difference… we just have to be willing.
When we are willing, God’s will prevails. (Tweet that)
Don’t ever think the prayers you pray aren’t important or that your ministry isn’t “big” enough. God is at work and your purpose is greater than you know.
No matter when.
No matter where.
Just be willing.
PS: I’m beginning a series on Advent November 29th. I hope you will join me!