Friday, January 4, 2013

hey michelle, your sanctification is calling...

I really don't like using the phone.  And when I say this, I'm not referring to all the fun features on my iPhone.  (I love those.)  What I don't like is to use the phone as it was origninally intended.

I've always been this way.

I can remember a day during my high school years when my family had decided to order pizza for dinner one night.  And somehow I got nominated to make the call.  To this day, I think it was a consipiracy to challenge my phobia and get a good rise out of me.  All in good fun, no? But at the time, I kicked, thrashed and protested until I was in tears.  It felt like torture.  The anxiety rose full force and nearly stopped my heart.  In fact, the sensation was so powerful, I can feel it now as I type. Panic attacks are no fun, I tell ya.

I never ended up calling.

Instead, I escaped to my room in a full-sprint frenzy claiming some form of child-abuse.

Needless to say, it's one of my greatest weakness.  Unexplainably weird.  And still ever a strong-hold in my life.  Some people are afraid of heights, small spaces or the like.  I am afraid of talking on the phone.  It produces all sorts of anxiety in me.  And if you are a friend of mine, you'll notice I hardly ever call you.  And if you're a really good friend of mine, you (thankfully & I love you for this) don't care.

I'd rather talk to your face than talk to your voice.

Being on intership has fully challenged this phobia of mine. And for good reason.  The phone is useful tool to get a hold of someone for a variety of reasons...good reasons.  (Who knew?)

I'm continually having to call people all week long.  Asking how their week has been, checking who has needs, informing someone about our community group, scheduling dinner-dates at our home, etc...

And EVERY time I have to make a call, my stomach churns with anxiety.

I'm confident I'll never get over my phobia (it seems that my last job as an accounts receiveable clerk should have more than adequately provided healthy recovery - calling over 30 people per day...for 2 years...pretty much the definition of the sumbersion theory, no?).  But I'm praying instead that God will grant me the strength to forge ahead.  To see this as an opportunity to give Him all the glory.   To be sanctified.  To become a decent pastor's wife someday.

Whenever I need to make a call, and after my stomach settles a bit, I take a deep breath, dial and remind myself I'm dead to sin and alive to righteousness.

It's not easy.  But necessary.  And if that's my cross, I'll glady bear it for the sake of the gospel.

Just know I'll never be the one to volunteer to call the pizza guy.



(Disclaimer:  
Just so it's clear, it makes no difference who I am calling.  
From a best friend to the customer service lady at Walmart.  
My phobia is no respecter of persons.  
So don't think I don't like to use the phone 
because you assume I don't like who is on the other end!  
I just don't like to talk on the phone.  
It ends there.  
Simple as that.  
Weird? Absolutely. 
Ridiculous? You bet.  
You think I need to grow up?  Me too. )



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Love is to the heart what the summer is to the farmer's year - it brings to harvest all the loveliest flowers of the soul. -Unknown