What Are You Doing Under That Bushel?

Do you remember the song we sang in Sunday school? This little light of mine…I’m going to let it shine…Hide it under a bushel…NO!…I’m going to let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

I found myself thinking about that bushel this weekend. I spent too much time hiding under mine, and I still find myself wanting to scoot back under on occasion. Remember the enthusiasm with which we’d shout, “NO!” to having our little lights hidden? My grown-up self could learn a thing or two from 6-year-old Kate.

A couple years ago my dear college roommate, Emily, died in a car accident. She had been like a sister to me. We lived together for 3 years in college, she spent a summer with me in Michigan, we traveled together, served together, stood in each other’s weddings, we walked through the early seasons of marriage and motherhood together. In many ways, we grew up together. Losing Em catapulted me into a pretty desolate season of depression and anxiety, which eventually landed me in the office of a therapist. God graciously used my connection to Emily and a really great therapist to overturn my bushel. I started writing through my grief, and found healing, hope, and a nearness to Jesus when I picked up a pen.

Here’s the thing with our bushels. We live in a culture where fame seems instantaneous and attainable to the masses. We become experts merely via self-proclamation. The danger to those of us stuck in hiding, is we’ve been tricked into thinking we ought only come out from under our bushel if we are able to step directly into the limelight. We’ve falsely believed that if our message or service or calling or gift isn’t for everyone, then it isn’t for anyone. This is a lie. Remember that sneaky, roaming devil lion, Satan? (1 Peter 5:8) This is precisely how he will seek to snuff out our little lights.

I’ve slowly learned (embarrassingly so) that my writing is not for an audience, platform, accolade, or promotion. It’s for Jesus. And when I keep my little gift hidden under a bushel, I’m robbing HIM of the glory and praise and honor he receives through my words. He’s the great artist, not me. It’s HIS work I’m ultimately hiding. Ouch.

Friends, what are you doing under that bushel? We need your lights, your gifts, your passions, your dreams, your unique ways of directing our gazes heavenward. Hide it under a bushel? NO! Let those little lights shine!

Kate