Hidden No More

It started over lunch—two women leaning in, unwrapping the conversation like a carefully folded gift:

What are your gifts? Which ones have been hidden behind walls?

Clare and I were in the newness of friendship—that tender space where you’re still discovering one another’s stories but already sensing the connection runs deep. We skipped the small talk and stepped straight into heart talk. And in that sacred ease, God began to surface what had been tucked away for years.

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The Gifts That Went Quiet

As I left the table that day, I carried more than my crossbody bag. I carried the sound of Clare’s listening—the way her presence made space for truth to rise—and the reminder that sometimes God uses a brand-new friendship to call out gifts that have been waiting quietly for their turn in the light.

On the way home, my thoughts drifted to the quiet places where God’s gifts had been covered—pressed down by the weight of others’ flawed opinions and the shadows of my own insecurities, where shame, fear, and doubt had quietly taken root.

My voice — silenced when, early in corporate America, someone told me I couldn’t speak well.

My writing — dimmed by comparing myself to a sibling gifted enough to win a national writing contest.

My sensitivity — brushed aside with, You cry too easily… you feel too much.

My deep thinking — met with, It’s not that deep, though for me, it always was.

Even my way of seeing Christ in unexpected places — dismissed with, He’s not always there.

Now I see more clearly—my voice, my words, my deep sensitivity, and the way I notice Christ in unexpected places—were never mine to protect or perfect. They have always been His, placed in me for His reflection.

The enemy never stole them; he only tried to cloud my sight so I wouldn’t recognize their true Source.

But God, in His mercy, has been lifting the shadows, and what remains is His light—shining through gifts that belong fully to Him, for His glory alone.