I took this job to pay the rent, and to learn a little something about how to edit. It accomplished both those things, as well as a few more important things. They have to do with matters of the spirit.
Sharing my faith is not my strong suit. I can write about my belief in Jesus, but when it comes to actually talking about it to a living, breathing non-Christian, I clam up. This isn't because I don't care if the unsaved find God; it's not because I think Jesus is anything less than clear when he charges us to spread the gospel. No, I don't witness because, well, I'm embarrassed.
I'm not sure that most of my professors and classmates even know that I'm a Christian. I hem and haw for hours about my jewelry before I go to a professor's office. Do I leave the cross hanging around my neck, right there in plain sight? Or do I tuck it discreetly beneath my blouse?
Once I was on the train heading ...1