Cracks

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 50^th 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 6^th 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 6^th 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 6^th grade.  I step into the room FULL of 5^th and 6^th 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 (6^th graders have purses?) and moves 2 seats down away from me.  Perfect- all the sudden my own 6^th 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 6^th 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 6^th Grade was the year that I let sin break me.  It was in 6^th Grade that I began lose my faith that He could love me despite of my mistakes.  It was in 6^th 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 6^th 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 6^th 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.” 

 

One of the biggest lies the enemy will tell you is that you’re broken beyond repair.  He’s cunning and wants nothing more than to stifle God’s love and grace in us.  He’ll whisper, “Oh honey, your vessel has too many cracks.  Sure God can put you together, but you’ll never hold water.”  He’ll say it so softly that you won’t even see the shame-controlled trap he’s luring into.  I’m here to say that it’s those very cracks that let God’s mercy flow through the broken vessels that we are.  When people see how God has restored me, I hope they see His strength and purpose come through, not my ability to hold water.  Soul restoration is out of our jurisdiction, HE ALONE HOLDS THE POWER TO REDEEM.  I cling to His grace like I do my old Bible, and I pray you do the same- God’s mercies are new every morning and His grace has no limit.