Don't Hesitate!

I want to share a story about something that I saw in church this morning that challenged me more than the sermon, hymns, creeds and prayers all put together. But first, a bit of background...
I attend a small church with a predominantly elderly congregation. There is no one there who is my express age, but there are a few who are older and younger than I am. There is one girl (the subject of this little story) who is in her early twenties. She's been attending the church for much longer than I have, but only recently we've struck up one of those awkward friendships where we talk every once in a while and we don't really know what to talk about, but we're rather content to just stand there and smile at each other.
Anyway, she is also one of the ushers who takes the offerings, gets everyone up for communion, gets the attendance tally and ect (I'm not an usher, so I'm not sure what-all they do besides that). I've always respected her because she has a quality that I have always coveted. She has a gentle and quiet spirit and she is absolutely unselfish. Ok, so that's two qualities (or is it three?), but stick with me here; I've never been good with numbers.
This is what she did today that made me sit back and take a good look at myself:
I was sitting in my pew, singing one of the communion hymns, (without looking, mind you. That's important to the story. I knew the words, though, so I wasn't neglecting my duty to the congregation.) when I saw her helping a very elderly lady up to the communion rail. I'm not sure why this affected me so much, but it did. When they got to the front, I expected her to hand the lady off to the usher at the rail, but she didn't. Instead, she very calmly helped the lady to the rail and knelt beside her and took communion. After they finished, she came back down and helped the lady to her seat. This may not sound very life-changing, but it sure brought me up short.
I am a very... self-conscious person. I'm constantly wondering (one of my worst faults, by the way) what people will think of me when I do something. If I had been in that girl's place, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have done what she did. I would have hung back and wondered if the woman might need help, made a few tentative advances and then sigh with relief when someone else did what I was thinking of doing. It seems like I always do that. When I feel that I should go over and talk to someone, welcome them to the church, or some such like that, I always hesitate and argue with myself for so long that the opportunity is lost. I always tell God "next time". But I know, deep down, that when "next time" comes, I'll find some reason to avoid it too. That's why I was so challenged by what she did.
She didn't hesitate to do what she knew she should. She didn't care what people might think. She didn't try to get rid of the responsibility as soon as an opportunity came up. She didn't look around and think how awkward her situation was. She didn't hesitate to do it at all. That was what amazed me.
Very rarely do I come across a person who doesn't hesitate to do something they know they ought to do, and they do it with such selfless uncaring as to what people might think that I am completely humbled. I've always longed to be like that. To do things without weighing consequences and other people's opinions against the action. I've prayed, many times, to have the courage and selflessness to go up to people and talk to them or help them without wondering what my siblings, friends, or even the people around me (who I don't even and probably will never know) are thinking of me. But those prayers are rather empty and vain if I don't exercise the courage and unselfish love for others that God has already given me (2 Timothy 1:7 & 2 Corinthians 9:8) -- which I, to my chagrin, rarely make use of -- and take a step out of my self-conscious rut and see what He will do through me when I actually give Him an opportunity. After all, I can hardly blame God for not giving me that extra surge of courage which will physically push me into such a situation (when I have the audacity and lack of faith to ask for such a thing...), after I have made it quite clear that I am unwilling to use the less dramatic courage He has already given me, face my fears, and do what He asks. I know that when I finally push myself to use what God has already given me to overcome my fear, I'll open up the door for Him to do immeasurably more than I could ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20), and to do them through me, His very timid and hesitant princess. And that is something worth pushing for.

'Till next time,
-- Jamie