Tonight I gave a Young Life talk. I've given a lot of Young Life talks. I've gotten to the point where I'm decently comfortable with them. I still get nervous beforehand every time. But I've gotten comfortable with that nervousness and grown confident in the rewarding feeling afterwards.
But tonight was a little different. Tonight, as I started in with my story, the room didn't hone in. There was a lot of side conversations. That part was sort of normal. But then, as I made my transition to start talking about Jesus, to take the story from light hearted funnies to something a little deeper, those heads didn't turn back to me. They kept talking. They joked about what I was saying. They interrupted me. And not just 3 of them in the back corner. But half the room. Even people on the front row.
And I crumbled a little. I got off track. I forgot what I was talking about and started in a nervous ramble for a hot second. I pulled it together and got out what I meant to say. I said my ending lines and delivered the main point. But it was the first time I've ever given a talk where I walked away from the front of the room and could have cried instantly. I was so frazzled.
I felt disrespected, uncared for, unloved, overlooked. I felt like marching back into the room and telling those that had been so rude to not come back anymore, to stay at home if they were going to be so distracting.
But then...I remembered what I had just given a talk about.
I'd just told them a story about a time where this lady Mary broke open what would be the equivalent of a $40,000 bottle of perfume and poured it on Jesus's head and feet. Which is weird but stay with me. She gave him a gift, the most valuable possession she owned. And when people rebuked her about how she could have sold that and used the money for so many better things, Jesus stopped them. He told them that Mary had done a good thing, that her story would be told for generations to come because she understood what He was worth. He was worth giving everything to. Her best. Everything.
Her dignity, her pride, her
life.
So 20 seconds after I gave this talk, Jesus gave it right back at me.
Is He worth it? Is He worth giving up your pride? Is He worth feeling embarrassed, getting frazzled, getting nervous and fumbling out words? Is that message worth telling?
Do you still believe that that message holds the power of LIFE even when it's delivered to closed ears? Will you keep on sharing the story of Jesus even when the people you're telling it to don't give a crap?
When the crowds stop cheering and the feedback turns negative, will you still stand in the truth that you were born for this? Made for this? Chosen for this?
Yes. A thousand times yes. I forget it, but yes, it's worth it.
And also, would you rather have a room full of people who already love and respect the stories you tell? No. Bring on the crazies, the unbridled, the wild, the lost.
On hearing this, Jesus said to them, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners."
