For those of you who know me well, you know I’m an uber introvert. As the founder of an agency-type business, I have to make a lot of phone calls.

To strangers.

It’s not okay.

I sometimes question how the heck I got into starting my own business in the first place. I’ve weaseled my way around the startup industry. But I’m not an entrepreneur. According to my DISC assessment, I’m better the kind of person who is good at keeping things up and running smoothly and making people look good. I’m not the kind of person to dream up ideas; I’m the kind of person to hear them and make them happen.

And yet… this is where God has me. And the words of the late missionary Jim Elliot haunt me:
“Wherever you are, be all there.”

But day to day, I get so discouraged and lonely, and I would prefer to be anywhere but here, thank you very much, Mr. Elliot. And so I live in fantasy worlds where I’m alone in the mountains, or back in college, or in that evasive place sometime in the future where I’m safe — that fantastic, impossible place where I’m safe from uncertainty and commitment all at the same time. (A millennial’s dream!)

Working with companies instead of for companies often makes me feel like I’m on the outside looking in — like I have to put on a professional face for everyone I work with, and then run home and cry. Ha.

 

This morning, I had to catch up on some follow-up calls for some referrals I got from a business partner. I was pacing, because I find that pacing helps me feel confident enough not to dream of jumping off a cliff.

On the first call, I was received by a secretary, and I fumbled over my words as I gave her a message to pass along. Ick.

Then I had to call this other guy…

*dial dial dial*

He probably doesn’t have time for me, either… I should have just called him last week.

…

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Meg Baatz with Envoi Creative. …”

“Oh, hi! …. You staying dry?” (If you don’t know, Colorado is currently in its teenage-angst monsoon season that randomly appeared for the first time this year since the dawn of time.)

I laughed. “Trying to!” (And succeeding. I was actually hiding in a tiny closet in my house that made me feel safe.)

He laughed back. Said a few more statement about the uncharacteristic weather… and how it reminds him of where he grew up. He shared with me some of his personal background… and then went into his work background and his current predicament.

I don’t know what it was, but it was something about how this guy spoke to me that made me feel human. Our conversation wasn’t all about business, and how much is this going to cost, and what can you do for me. He was bold about how much he believed in his vision and his cause, but he also unabashedly told me he had no creative capabilities when it comes to web design and branding.

He boldly took a chance and assumed
that I cared about his story
and had time to hear it.

(Which I did.)

This is a boldness that I desperately want more of. 

Because being human with someone opens the door for her to be human back.

I’m done being so serious about everything.
I’m tired of being a chameleon,
depending upon the whims and worries
of people around me
to define my color.
I’m tired of assuming everybody is too busy for me,
or is mad at me
every time I fall short.
I want to expect grace to show up as I take steps in the dark.
I want to be confidently me,
confident enough to proclaim
my strengths and victories
and weaknesses and evils.

I will subject myself to radical judgment and radical acceptance, all at once —
knowing in the end it will be worth it,
because even if I blow it in my business,
someone out there will care whether or not my clothes are dry.

Anyways. That phone call made my day.