What is my talent?

Matt 25:18, 24&25

"18But the man who had received the one talent went off, dug a hole in the ground and hid his master's money.
24"Then the man who had received the one talent came. 'Master,' he said, 'I knew that you are a hard man, harvesting where you have not sown and gathering where you have not scattered seed. 25So I was afraid and went out and hid your talent in the ground. See, here is what belongs to you.' "


I can remember the first time I heard this parable in sunday school. I thought hard about what Jesus was trying to say to those around him. What was He trying to say to me, and I remember thinking that I would use my talents to give glory God, whatever they may be. As I grew older, I continued to hear this parable taught and preached by many different people, in many different ways. Mostly at some sort of church camp or outreach, with the focus being on the reward of each steward the Master had entrusted with His "talents". I began to see that it was important for me to have some sort of return on these talents God had given me, again, whatever they may be. I don't remember when I began to think about the last steward had done with his one talent, but at some point I began to focus on how he buried it, and didn't gain any sort of return it. Why bury the talent in the dirt? Did he think it would grow into something? It seemed absurd to me.

I gave my life to Christ when I was very young. I was in sunday school, and my mom had taught the lesson that day. We learned about the fruits of the spirit, and how when we were saved God would begin to produce these fruits in our lives. That Jesus was our friend and He helped us and helped the fruit to grow. At the end of the class, my mom very gently and quietly reminded us of how Jesus gave his life and that we could have a very special relationship with Him, all we had to do was ask Him. He would make us clean and because of what He did we could be close to Him and God. I knew at that moment I wanted to be close to God and to Jesus. As she prayed a sinners prayer, I repeated the words, and knew that my life was different some how. Jesus was with me, and He always would be.

Child like faith is a miracle, Idon't know why we lose that faith as we get older. In my life it seems that the older I get the harder my heart becomes. I miss those days where I trusted in God. I knew that God could heal the worst disease, and even raise the dead. I prayed for my classmates out loud and in public. I witnessed to anyone and everyone. I wasn't ashamed of the Gospel of Christ. I knew beyond any shadow of doubt, that if everyone had a relationship with God they could be happy and have peace. I would have shouted from a mountain top, if Texas had any!

With the death of my mom, the countless rejection I faced from people who were supposed to love me unconditionally, and years of piled up hurts I began to slowly dig a hole and bury my life in it. Now, I'm back to the steward with only one talent. Me, my life, is my one talent that God has entrusted to me. Out of fear, I have dug up a hole in the ground and buried it. For some reason I feel comfort in this grave. I think in here noone can hurt me, the world cannot get to me, I am no longer vulnerable. From the bottom of this pit I can finally be at peace. But all I see is my life draining from me.