Speaking up.

My Senior year of college the Director of Residence Life gave me a compliment that, at first, I wasn't quite sure was a compliment. She said, "It has been great seeing you change during your time here and on the residence life staff. You were a freshman afraid of your own voice, but you have grown so much since then." That probably isn't an exact quote, but it's close. At the time I took the affirmation for what it was, affirmation. I was leaving Mars Hill College as a better person than when I came in - that place will do that to you when you take advantage of what it has to offer. I was also really confused.

I've always been quiet, especially if I don't know you very well. I am without a doubt an introverted thinker who prefers her own thoughts to outward verbal expression. But "afraid of my own voice?" I've never been that self-conscious, right?

In retrospect I completely see what she was saying. I went from shy, freshman Annie who tried to fit in everywhere and make everyone happy, to self-aware Annie who spoke up confidently in class and lead movements and formed friendships in ways others did not always understand. In four very quick years I learned that my thoughts were often too big to keep in my head and making everyone happy is an impossible goal. My voice mattered, at least a little bit. I wasn't afraid of it anymore. At least I didn't think I was.

Here I am, again. Starting my last year - almost, I have an extra semester - in school. It's graduate school this time, seminary in fact, but it's such a similar feeling. I have been moving from a confused, lonely first year who secretly has no idea what she is doing here to an almost-confident third year who is terrifyingly excited about going into ministry. And in this moment I wonder - do I have a voice? If so, does it matter?

In literature classes in high school and college you are asked to find the author's voice. While grading papers your professors ask the same of your own work. Where is your voice? Where is your belief? Where is your passion? How are you portraying this thought or idea?

It's terrifying. If you find my voice, will you like it? How can you like it if I'm not even sure I like it? I keep thoughts in my head for so long and over think them so much that they barely have meaning. I think I have to have every word perfect before it comes out of my mouth.

Maybe part of this stems from being the oldest child. Or from being a pastor's kid who was always expected to get it right, or at least repeat the right things according to a specific congregation. Or from multiple boyfriends who only ever pretended to listen. Or just simply from being a woman - especially being a woman in ministry. Wherever it comes from, it's apparently a big issue.

This is why I struggle with blogging. Every post won't be perfect. Every thought will not be accepted. Every sentence will not create an existential movement. But who needs perfect anyway? Every post is me. Every thought is from my head. Every sentence matters in my existence. Therefore, it is all important. Therefore, my voice matters.

My voice matters.

It's a big, important, difficult thing to remember. If my friends and I are picking out a movie, my voice matters. If my brothers want to listen to a band that I hate, my voice matters. If my friend is in an unhealthy relationship, my voice matters. If I'm writing a paper that only one professor will ever see, my voice matters. If I'm blogging on the internet that has millions and trillions and gazillions of other blogs, my voice matters. If I'm standing behind a pulpit on any given day, my voice matters.

I was created by a loving God who gave me passions and thoughts that deserve to be shared. I was given gifts by the Spirit that assist me in articulating ideas in specific ways. My voice matters. I matter.

Thank you, Mars Hill and McAfee for helping me learn that, even if it's a lesson that is taking a while to sink in.

And to ALL of you reading this, learn who you are, find your voice. It matters, and so do you.