I’ve been on the World Race now for two solid months. I am wrapping up my time in the Dominican Republic. It’s been a different month, we’ve had a lot of rain and sometimes the weather messed with our plans to go out and do ministry. The roads get pretty muddy here with red clay dirt and steep mountain roads. But I’ve enjoyed the lush jungle rain forest this month, even with all its bugs and downpours. I’ve had some extra time to be with God, and to be honest, I’ve been finally learning what it means to be loved by God.
One morning, I was listening to How He Loves by John Mark McMillian in the background. I’ve heard these lyrics hundreds of times, so much so I barely hear what they say anymore. But in the stillness that morning, the lyrics “I don’t have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way He Loves,” jumped out at me. Maintaining regrets, I do that a lot. And knowing God’s love, I realized I didn’t truly grasp it.
Greg’s Story
Earlier this month one of our leaders told us the story of his life. Greg started out with so much joy in his eyes, and I was convinced he was about to tell me some story about how he grew up in an ideal Christian home with a perfect childhood. I was wrong. Greg had a lot of crap happen to him when he was growing up, things were tough. HIs life is full of peaks and valleys. But God showed up in big ways and carried Greg through. And Greg has built his life on this this unquestioning faith in how much God loves him. Things in Greg’s past, although difficult, don’t seem to pull him down. He is free.
Greg and I have similar stories, I think that’s why I was so captivated by how he told his testimony. But I could not fathom telling my story like he did. I question God’s love a lot. My faith is often so small, wrapped up in the present circumstances and creased by all my past experiences. BUT I want to be like Greg. I want to tell my testimony, the story of my life, with that kind of conviction and joy.
There is Power in Story
There is power in story. As I’ve been on the race I’ve been in the midst of people’s stories. Theses stories are powerful. They inspire. They point back to a good a loving God. Stories are like an outstretched arm. They reach out to us, they give us courage to continue forward in faith.
I know I have a story tell. But telling my story feels like showing up to a party in a wrinkled dress. It’s awkward, and I feel like everyone is starring at every little imperfection. It takes a lot of vulnerability to pull my story out, and no matter how much mental ironing I do, its still a wrinkly mess. But it’s my wrinkly mess story. Every wrinkle represents a valley of despair up against and ending of how God brought me out of it. My story is full of struggles, hopes, and now renewed faith in how I’m loved by God. I want to own every wrinkle for all that it’s worth.
We are prone to letting life shape us. However, this month I’ve learned nothing and no one can shape who God is. He is who He is. No one can change what God has done, choosing to send his son to earth to reconcile our relationship with him. No one can change how much God loves me and the world. Not my past, not my mistakes, not other people, not the devil can change who God is. And even though I can be temporary dissuaded otherwise, the truth of God’s love is steady. Jesus proclaimed, I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. It’s through Christ we are guided on a path back to Love.
I strongly dislike vulnerability, and I’m terrified of failure. But I have a new goal. So let me go on the record and state, my goal is to tell my story with joy. I am done with regrets. I am over worrying about all the wrinkles. I’m ready instead to listen to that tiny, but profound voice of God who tells me I am loved.
