From The Editor: Silently Shrinking
I’ve spent most of my life without a voice.
Even though my family moved to a new town every few years for my dad’s job, I had some wonderful friends growing up. I loved them dearly, but as a perpetual outsider, I never felt fully comfortable enough to put forward opinions and ideas.
As the middle of five kids, there was always too much noise already surrounding me. Being loud enough to break through the din to be heard was uncomfortable and at times even distressing for a young introvert. So, I stopped trying.
Starting college as a young woman, I was quite nervous. I was excited to learn but felt anxious that I might be called upon to speak up. As I was entering a new phase in life, I decided to try new things, be brave, and jump in anyway. I boldly offered up thoughts during some of my first classes, and rather quickly was made to understand that sweet little blond-haired southern girls would not be taken seriously by most people, professors included. I would receive a smile and the vocal equivalent of a pat on the head, then be sent on my way.
So, I stopped having opinions. I stopped thinking things through and processing enough to even form an opinion. I became extremely pleasant and pliable and learned to quietly grit my teeth when I was treated like a child just because I was a soft-spoken blond female.
I hated it, but I eventually got used to it.
Then I met my best friend, and we started talking. And he asked me what I thought about everything from my favorite flavor of ice cream to the depths of philosophy and theology.
It was exceedingly stressful. I hadn’t had to form an opinion in years, and he made it clear that he wanted to know my thoughts. I had to start thinking again. I had to begin examining my feelings on everything, digging much deeper than I had maybe ever before in my life. Often in the beginning of our relationship he would become frustrated with me for not caring about even the smallest things:
“What kind of food would you like?”
“I don’t care. Whatever is fine.”
“No. I don’t want to pick something only to find out you don’t like it. You have to at least think about it and give me some options.”
It was excruciating. But bit by bit, choice by choice, I began to think. I began to process. And I began to care. And then, strangely, I began to want to be heard.
I have opinions. I have thoughts — often a lot of thoughts. And I fully believe that my opinions have value. I still struggle to speak up in social situations, but I do my best when I know that what I have to say needs to be spoken.
And now, I have a voice. God has placed me in a position to be heard by more people than I could ever have imagined speaking to — and I have things to say! Every month God places things on my heart to share, and I am blessed beyond my imagination to write and have people read my words.
Speaking up in a world where I had no voice for years, and for a long time didn’t even care, is a seismic shift, proving that God can and does move mountains. He will shift our whole universe to speak to us, and will in turn utilize us, His precious, thoughtful, intelligent, and fully loved people, to speak truth to others.
If you feel you have no voice, I want you to know that you matter. What you think matters. And you may have a difficult journey ahead of you, but working to be heard is important. And maybe that simply begins with listening. Listen to what the Holy Spirit wants to speak into your life, and perhaps you can let Him embolden you to share that with someone else. God can use even a whisper to impact the world.