Deep breath. That one
didn’t help. One more deep breath. Okay, that’ll do. I gather the torn binding of my most prized
possession and collect the missing page of Ephesians from the seat beside
me. I’m not sure why I brought Across the Spectrum, but I did- along
with my journal of course. One last
quick prayer, “Lord use me as Your vessel as You see fit.” I smile thinking of the conversation He and I
just had on the way over- “Emma, why can’t you remember any of the words in the
songs you sing about me? For the 50th
time, I did not pay for my sins, I
paid for your sins- and if you could
get the prose in that verse right just once, the entire verse would make a lot
more sense.” I can feel Him
smiling. “I’m truly working on it Lord,
I just get so caught up and can’t remember sometimes, that’s why you put me on
a worship team with a teleprompter!” He
laughs, “Okay Emma. Oh one more thing,
stop driving with your knees in order to lift your hands to Me. I am God, I can feel your worship without you
endangering my other children.” “Yes
Lord.” Jesus gets me. I get out of the car, hold my precious stack
of books close to my chest and start through the October sleet storm towards
the church.
Just a few days ago I walked in with the same flutter in my
stomach for my final worship team audition.
With phlegm in my throat and pain in my past I walked into a setting of
incredibly talented and polished musicians and prayed the same prayer. The Lord gave me unexplainable peace and carried
me through that, and I trusted He would do the same for my next
opportunity. Dr. Wes had talked about
belonging to a group of people, not just attending a church service… so that’s
what I’m going to do. The Lord knows my
family needs it.
Let me just say, I’m a newly discovered introvert. I don’t know why I didn’t accept this
earlier, but I think I wanted to be an extrovert. I wanted to be comfortable and at ease with
new people and situations- after all my profession demands that, and so I put
on a pretty good act- Praise God Almighty that He doesn’t require that of me. My very best friend recently told me I was an
introvert, and after a moment’s consideration I understood that she was
right. I think it’s good to know what
you are- after all Jesus is famous for using introverts…broken ones at
that. I have heard His call, or His
expectation rather to step up and be used, and I’m obeying this time.
I walked through the fellowship hall of this building I was
growing to love, and I began my search for my trainer/guide. As I walked through and saw the kids in their
Awana vests I felt a familiar rush of comfort.
This is how it was before life took a turn. I remembered learning the verses, running the
relay races, and playing with my friends in the basement of my own childhood
church. Our Awana was called Conquerors’
Club, but it served a similar purpose. I
continued through the building and found the leader I was looking for. She began to walk me through and introduce me
to people in the church and show me the anatomy of the building. I felt like a new teacher, possibly of the
Christy or Anne of Green Gables variety clinging to my books and meeting hesitant
students. I was the new girl, I hate
being the new girl.
All week I had prayed and wondered about why they could
possibly want me teaching 6th Grade Girls. The leader had said that she had originally
wanted me in the Sr. High area as I was younger and possibly more relevant to
the older kids, but she couldn’t get over what I put on my application- I wanted
to meet a need, even if it didn’t fit in my ‘interests, talents, experienced’
category. So here I was, going back
through my memory trying to remember what it was like to be in the 6th
Grade. What did I care about, what did I
understand? Are these girls from the
community or are they churched? The have
cell phones? They wear makeup? They wear yoga pants? Oh, hmm, I don’t remember that part of 6th
grade. I step into the room FULL of 5th
and 6th grade boys and girls and scan the crowd for who may be in my
class. I sit down in between two girls
and finally put my books down. The girl
to my left immediately picks up her purse (6th graders have purses?)
and moves 2 seats down away from me.
Perfect- all the sudden my own 6th grade memory came back real fast. I stood up to get a chair for another girl
behind us and as I turned back to my chair I saw my worn Bible sitting on my
chair with my journal. I
remembered. I remembered sitting in
church, in Sunday School running to my seat with that same Bible on it. All at once God spoke again, “Do you remember
why I have you here yet?” Out of all the
ministry opportunities, leading 6th Grade Girls was not the most
glamorous, not the easiest, and maybe not the most important in some people’s
eyes- but this, this was on purpose. God
wants me here. God is pleased that I’m
here. I had never previously remembered my past's events according to grade, only by age, but looking at my Bible sitting on the folding chair, I slowly realized that 6th Grade
was the year that I let sin break me. It
was in 6th Grade that I began lose my faith that He could love me
despite of my mistakes. It was in 6th
Grade that I began as a girl to start ushering the God of my heart into a small
box of conditional love, a box that made sense to me, a box that kept Him safe
from the shame on the outside.
I’m not going to share the specifics of my story, but I
distinctly remember sitting in a group of other 6th graders and
thinking I was secretly the only one God didn’t have time for anymore. After all, I was the verse memorizing
champion. I was the special music
singing, sanctuary vacuuming, beloved niece of the Pastor. I knew
better, and here I was trapped in sin I didn’t even understand. Having such big issues so young was not only
not talked about, but as far as I had observed, it was not understood by the
church- so why then would God ever understand or love what they couldn’t? I knew I had accepted His non-refundable gift
of Salvation, but I had all but started to believe that I had lost His
love. He was safe in His box, and I was alone
on the outside--ruined.
It wasn’t for a very long time, after a long journey, that
He opened my eyes to the fact that He had never been in a box at all. He had been there all along. When I made big mistakes in college, He was
there. When I chased after the futility
of fame in Nashville He was there. When
I failed to carry my children full term because of my addiction to work, He carried them and brought them out in His time. Through the darkest valleys of sin that I
chose to walk through- He was walking with me, nothing hidden from Him. His unconditional love pursued my confused
heart and on October 2, 2014 He called my name.
Through His word I began to learn about a God I had read about my entire
life but never really known.
This is why I was
here- I had a chance to help establish the roots of these tender 6th
Grade girls in the truth and grace of Jesus- and I knew firsthand why it was so
important, and so on purpose that I
be here every Wednesday night.
The lesson went wonderfully, and God guided my ears to
listen, my mouth to speak, and my heart to steer our conversation. I over-used the word 'situation,' but God's bigger than my tiny internal thesaurus. By the end of our first meeting, two
older girls had unexpectedly opened up about things I would’ve never dared to
mention at their age. We were open, we
were honest, I was able to share God’s love and the story of His Son with my
group of girls and I know it’s only the beginning.
My trainer doesn’t know this, but I had to hold back a tear
or two when she handed me my leader t-shirt.
HIS ways are Higher, HIS plan is perfect, HIS love is complete. It’s because of Him that someone like me,
broken at a young age and dragged through life by the enemy and my sinful
choices, could ever be used again. I
repeated the lyrics from a song I had just heard on my way home, “Mercy strong
to carry shame and nail it to a tree- You alone hold the power to redeem.”
