This is a poem of what it is like for me sometimes when making phone calls while raising support, otherwise known as MPD (Ministry Partner Development). I am not going to pretend that I am some perfect fearless women. There is a lot that goes into every dial I make. I have a hard time remembering who I am when I make an MPD call. I want to be professional, yet not be fake, I am scared of how I am going be precieved, and if others are being honest with me.
It is only because of the Holy Spirit living in me that I am able to do my call time. This is by far the scariest part of what I do during MPD and where I talk to the Lord the most. In a way, the Lord uses my phone time to make sure that I know I need Him, and that He is in control.
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Dear Lord, hold my hand
Sitting in a chair with a list on my lap
The pen of the week shaking in one hand
My phone in the other
Heartburn in my chest
Shortness of breath
Now the voices start to sink in
"you need to go to the bathroom"
"have you checked Facebook lately"
"don't call now, you are going to bother them"
"you already called them this week"
"they don't really know you"
Lord make them go away
Eight... Nine... Ten numbers tapped
time to press that green button
Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring. RING.
Dizzy from all the anxiety
the voicemail comes on
Lord help me
"What do I say"
"Wait, who did I call"
"I am going to sound stupid"
"Is this professional"
"Who am I"
Relax my child
Message left
Tapping on the hang up button as fast as I can
Looking to the sky thank the Lord, it is over
Then I look down at my list
Take my pen of the week and make a mark
Ah HA! We did it!
Thank you Lord for bringing me through that
Now time to start over
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