Breaking the Walls of Comfort

Many nights I would lie awake wondering when, where, and how I'd ever possibly here God's voice.  I always questioned every thought that went through my mind.  When the idea seemed unsafe, uncomfortable, or strange I shoved it out the window.  I always prayed that God would open my eyes, and often wondered if I was blind.  Whenever I heard a random voice I was never for sure if it was God talking or directing my life. I always questioned if the voice was truly Him? Or was it just me making up a voice for Him because I needed to hear something?  Was it Satan throwing random ideas into my mind to throw me off track?  How could I possibly know for sure that it was God? I prayed continually that God would give me a sign that He was there guiding my every move, picking me up when I'd fallen, hearing my prayers, answering my prayers, and most of all just being apart of my everyday life.  At the time God seemed unreachable and life out of hand.  I didn't know where to go or who to turn too.  One evening I went to an evening worship.  I walked into the candle lit room and sat down on an empty pew.  In front of me sat this lonely girl, her head down, her eyes closed, and her body tense.  She looked in misery.  I couldn't help but start to pray for her.  I prayed for God to comfort her, to bring peace to her heart, to uplift her...and suddenly in the middle of my prayer the still small voice spoke out. It said, "Sit by her, wrap your arms around her, and tell her she's loved by God and that He'll never forget her."  Astonised I began to argue, "No way, you know good and well that's way out of my comfort zone, she'll think I'm weird."  The voice continued to push me to get up and pursue the hurting girl. Unfortunately I left the chapel that evening without saying a word or approaching the lost child of God.  I mean how could I?  There's no way she could be okay with that?  But as I walked away regret filled my heart.  I began to wonder if I would of said something or just hugged her...would that of healed her of her pain?  Would it of showed her God's love?  Showed her that people do care?  Regrettably it was to late, the girl was out of sight and all I had left was the memory of her sorrowful shadow.  To this day I picture the girl on the pew and regret not reaching my arms around her and whispering in her ear that someone does care, and always cares, He is our God, and never forget that.  I realized from that moment on that I needed to break the walls of my comfort and the next time God challenged me I would face the fear of failure.  It hit me that sometimes in life it's better to fail or not make a difference and be able to say that you tried than to not try at all.  I knew from then on that the voice inside my head was real, and that it was God. He was truly trying to open my eyes so I could see!  And I did.