For the Love of Making Phone Calls

I’ve been told I have a way with words.  But only on paper.

When on the phone, I find it necessary to first write out what I am going to say.  And then try to say it in such a way that it sounds like I really care about what I’m trying to say and not just reading it from a script.  And then fumbling around because I’m trying to vamp from the script and sounding like I’m incompetent in explaining what I’m trying to say that I care about.

Hello, Mr. I-Have-Your-Name-Written-On-This-Spreadsheet-Of-Information.  My name is…(hurry, switch to the Script…why didn’t I already have this pulled up?  Oh yeah, because I would have forgotten Mr. What’s-His-Name)…ah…Beth Tollett…(oh whew, there is it, now where am I…oh yeah right there past my name…I sure hope nobody is listening outside the hall because this is SUCH a train wreck…I hope Mr. I-Already-Forgot-His-Name doesn’t hang up on me…GET A GRIP!)…and I am the Director of Mobilization for Pure Mission, a non-profit agency based in Rogers, AR…

Yeah, sure you are.

See, while I can organize my thoughts with striking clarity on paper and manage to sound sane the majority of the time and even strangely witty on occasion, I am an utter disaster on the telephone.  I’m not much better in person.  Ask anyone who has noticed my difficulty in making eye contact or my awkward stuttering pauses or my derailment in thought and my annoying way of saying something five different ways to make my point using synonyms of synonyms.  No, this is not me showing off my vocabulary, which would be rather limited in practice if not for the reality of Google searches. This is me sharing my verbal vomit.  You’re welcome.

But back to the phone calls.  I hated making them, but I loved making them.  You see, I am working to help establish a program to recruit college students to go serve for a term in Malawi, Africa at Esther’s House.  The Malawi ministry is growing, but desperately needs more workers in order to thrive and expand.  My phone calls to professors at various colleges in surrounding states will play a small part in this initial recruitment process.  And surprisingly enough, nobody hung up on me, so I’m guessing God was busy working a small miracle over the phone lines in which the voice they heard through their receiver was competent, silky-smooth and definitely NOT containing the horrible southern twang, pauses and stutters that I heard on my end.

I am blessed to be able to have a job I love.  Even one that sometimes takes me out of my mostly writing and organizational-type comfort zone by occasionally making phone calls or talking in front of other people.  Because I’m not doing it for me, an overbearing boss or a paycheck.  I’m doing it for the people and ministry I love in Malawi.  I’m doing it because for now, unless I’m someday forced to leave missions kicking and screaming for all I’m worth, God has placed me here.

And a passion like that is worth getting over myself and dialing in for.