Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Irritant Me

Sometimes we are called to be an irritant to others. It isn't meant to harm them it is meant to help them grow. Though I've been told that I have played that role well, I really do not like being an irritant to others.

Being an irritant to others is like being the grain of sand in the oyster. The irritation causes the oyster to do something to make the irritant something beautiful and precious. Pearls are my favorite jewel because they softly reflect the light. They seem to be a gentle warm expression of beauty! The source, though, is from a small irritable hard grain on the soft lining of the oyster.

As I examine my life and who God has created me to be I cannot help but see myself as an irritant to others. When I speak God's truth I often find the response to be harsh. I feel rejected by the one I am trying to help! I am so happy that I am not always the irritant.

I do get to be the comforter and encourager sometimes and I enjoy the warm responses to my efforts. Because it is difficult for me to accept being an irritant I confess that I have often held back God's truth from others. now that I know my purpose in being the irritant, I can accept the challenge with greater courage!

God Almighty Judge, You are Wise and You alone are Judge. I have learned to watch my tendency to judge and to relinquish that right to You alone. I confess that I have not wanted to be the instrument You have created me to be! I have not wanted to be an irritant. I want people to like me and not reject me. Today I submit my will to Yours. I have asked that it would be taken from me in the past but today I say with Jesus, "Not my will but Yours be done." Thank You for using me to help others grow, to help them turn their lives into a beautiful pearl , reflecting Your glory! Help me to do what You ask of me with joy! Teach me to be an irritant of love.

I have an appropriate poem to share here. It has also been shared on Poetry Impressed and Significant Woman blogs.

by Carolynn J. Scully

Roses grow on thorny stems, and still,
Roses are meant to give away.

There is no true intent
To prick, hurt,
Or bring to tears
With gifts of thorny roses.

Love only exchanges
Bouquets in friendship
Meant to bless
With the beauty of soft,
Spicy sweet petals.

Yet, roses grow on thorny stems, and still,
Roses are meant to give away.
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