Well, I lost it today. I flipped out and burst into hysterical tears in between packing for Debrief. Why? Because I don’t have it together.
I’ve been struggling. With rejection, shame, condemnation, comparison . . . really anything and everything. And I’ve kept thinking that I need to fight, I need to declare the truth of God, I need to pray. Sure, those are good things, things the Word calls us to. But I’ve also thought that I needed to do it alone.
Somehow on this journey, the thought of being a perfect Christian has crept into my mind. As if there’s such a thing. As if I could do more to add to the power of the cross. As if God actually needs me to perform works in order to love me.
It’s the end of Month 4 on the World Race, and I can’t help but wonder—is it okay to struggle? Is it okay to not be okay? Is it okay that some mornings I wake up and the first thing I want to do is cry myself back to sleep? The more I walk with God, am I suppose to get more holy? What does that even mean?
Strugglebus passenger count: 1
I’ve been behaving as if I fight battles in my own power. Like God has raised me up to be strong enough to do life myself and I get to come back to Him to show off my victories. My victories, ha! Let’s be real, I can’t win anything for the Kingdom, I can’t convert a single soul, I can’t change anybody’s heart.
But Jesus can. Jesus is able.
I am so utterly ordinary, so ridiculously weak. I can barely decide what I’m going to wear every day (yes, even with only a backpack of clothes), and even then I usually change my outfit at least once. One day (one far, far off day) I might not be able to feed myself or wipe myself after the bathroom. Really, folks, I am anything but capable to change this world.
I don't even know how to hold this cat.
But Jesus . . . but Jesus . . . there is power in the name of Jesus.
For the record, let me state that no person is my project. I am not out to make people into God-zombies or charismatic-Christian-robots. No one needs to worship God like I do, no one needs to pray like I do, no one needs to dance around and scream-sing Misty Edwards’ songs at 6AM. Because what does forcing people to be like me do? A fat lot of nothing. It’s religion, focusing on the outward actions, making ‘wrong’ behavior ‘right’.
Jesus cares about the condition of our hearts, not what we do. We do out of the overflow of our hearts, because we are already full up with the knowledge that our Daddy loves us no matter what. The Father loves you because He loves you because He loves you because He loves you because He loves you . . .
Who changes hearts? Who reveals the truth of Christ? Who whispers the will of the Father? The Holy Spirit. Only the Holy Spirit.
It is the mystery and grace of God that He loves to use the weakest vessels to exert His power, to show off His glory.
But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty
1 Corinthians 1:27
1 Corinthians 1:27
Why did God choose me? Not because I’m more special or more spiritual—I am none of those things. But because He loves me, because He looks at me in my depravity and brokenness and weakness and says, “That’s my daughter! That’s the one I love! That’s the one I approve of!”
Yup, this woman right here: fully approved by her Father.
In my weakness, He is made strong. So gladly, gladly, with great joy, I say glory be to God when I’m strong but especially when I’m weak. Glory be to God in my struggle, glory be to God in my stumbling. Glory to the one who redeems what was once called lost, ugly, shameful, dark . . . I would gladly be weak, knowing that therefore Jesus gets all the credit.
So here’s me saying I don’t have it together. I don’t have the answers. I only have Jesus. And He is more than enough.
