"If my life is broken when I give it to Jesus it is because pieces will feed a whole multitude while a loaf will satisfy only a little lad." Ruth Stull
For the first three decades of my life I lived in a fairy tale world where heartbreak and sorrow had no place. My sister would tell you that it was indeed a fairy-tale world that had nothing to do with reality but the truth is I saw the world largely as a friendly nice place to be. There had never been any shocking tragedies. My parents, with all their human failings, never once caused me to doubt their sacrificial love for me or my siblings. We didn't live in the best part of town, we didn't have a ton of money but we always had enough. We ate well, dressed well - each of us got a car when we turned 16. Well, except for one of my sisters who refused to drive until she was 18. I went to school, got good grades without ever once really trying, had boyfriends, had girlfriends. I was very active in my youth group at church, I had a part time job as the church secretary so was very close to the minister. Looking back I just see it as a mostly positive experience. I confess that I have some sort of insane (my sis would testify) ability to look at the world and see it as I want it to be rather than what it is. And yet, I was largely sheltered from the evil and pain that is a part of life here in Satan's kingdom.
Then "real" life hit. It came in the form of tsunami, destroying every vestige of "normal", wiping every secure haven I had erected. I was devastated. Hadn't I always tried to do the "right" thing? Hadn't I tried to follow the rules? Why oh why was this happening??
Years later, though I'm still sifting through the damage of those earlier storms, I find myself not so afraid when the winds pick up. I've come to understand and accept that they are a part of life. They serve a greater purpose than to just shake up my world. I've been given a greater mission field than I would have had should I have been allowed to continue living in Beaver Cleaver's neighborhood. My brokenness makes me available to other's brokenness.
I don't like being reminded of the storms, I really don't like the scars they left. But if those scars bring one person to the healer of wounds I need to be willing to let them show. It's in my nature to want to hide them. Pray with me that I remember the loaf was enough for a boy but it was broken to feed the multitudes.
For the first three decades of my life I lived in a fairy tale world where heartbreak and sorrow had no place. My sister would tell you that it was indeed a fairy-tale world that had nothing to do with reality but the truth is I saw the world largely as a friendly nice place to be. There had never been any shocking tragedies. My parents, with all their human failings, never once caused me to doubt their sacrificial love for me or my siblings. We didn't live in the best part of town, we didn't have a ton of money but we always had enough. We ate well, dressed well - each of us got a car when we turned 16. Well, except for one of my sisters who refused to drive until she was 18. I went to school, got good grades without ever once really trying, had boyfriends, had girlfriends. I was very active in my youth group at church, I had a part time job as the church secretary so was very close to the minister. Looking back I just see it as a mostly positive experience. I confess that I have some sort of insane (my sis would testify) ability to look at the world and see it as I want it to be rather than what it is. And yet, I was largely sheltered from the evil and pain that is a part of life here in Satan's kingdom.
Then "real" life hit. It came in the form of tsunami, destroying every vestige of "normal", wiping every secure haven I had erected. I was devastated. Hadn't I always tried to do the "right" thing? Hadn't I tried to follow the rules? Why oh why was this happening??
Years later, though I'm still sifting through the damage of those earlier storms, I find myself not so afraid when the winds pick up. I've come to understand and accept that they are a part of life. They serve a greater purpose than to just shake up my world. I've been given a greater mission field than I would have had should I have been allowed to continue living in Beaver Cleaver's neighborhood. My brokenness makes me available to other's brokenness.
I don't like being reminded of the storms, I really don't like the scars they left. But if those scars bring one person to the healer of wounds I need to be willing to let them show. It's in my nature to want to hide them. Pray with me that I remember the loaf was enough for a boy but it was broken to feed the multitudes.
1 comment:
"I've come to understand and accept that they are a part of life." Wow. How much of our lives are spent trying to avoid them, run from them, pretend they are not there, or think God has forsaken us because we DO have them? I want to have your courage to face the storms...Thank you for sharing. I hope you'll share more.
Love,
Katherine
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