He who covers over an offense promotes love,
I saw Jesus today . . .
I saw Jesus today. He was wrapped in wrinkly skin with a balding head, crooked nose and a hunched back. He was teaching from the book of Revelation to a crowd of about 20 ragamuffin people in a little country church. He spoke with kindness, conviction, authority and power. His name was Ralph, age 73.
I saw Jesus today. He was wrapped in pale sagging skin, thinning gray hair, dingy teeth and compassionate eyes. He wore a dress and supportive shoes. His arm was broken and held together by a metal brace. He spoke with kindness, interest, and warmth. His name was Elaine, age 69.
Ralph and Elaine Gardner are pastor and pastor’s wife of Grace Fellowship Church in Oneonta, AL. They invited us (Sharon and me) to share about Discovery Clubs at their church today. They have a passion for Christ, the church, and the lost. The instant I met them I felt at home.
Ralph and Elaine took us to Taco Bell after church. Over tacos, we learned more about them, their family, and their lives. Ralph is a retired Chaplain, Elaine a retired nurse. Upon retirement they sold their house and spent 6 years touring the country in an RV ministering to other Pastors and Pastor’s wives.
Two years ago they were asked to be interim pastor of the church in Oneonta. They said yes and are still there. They are still living in an RV.
They don’t have much by way of this world. They don’t want for much. They pure and simple are sold out to Jesus and offer their weak, aging bodies to His service and to His glory. I’m confident they will do that until He calls them home to glory.
I wish you could have met them and experienced what I experienced today. When I got back in the car after lunch, I laid my head on the steering wheel and cried. Not because I felt sorry for them, but because I had just been in the presence of Jesus. I had just stood on holy ground. I was humbled.
Through my tears I said to Sharon, “These are the hall of fame people that Hebrews 11 talks about.”
Hebrews 11 says, “This world is not worthy of them.” I agree.
Yep, I saw Jesus today. I got to hug Him too. It was very, very sweet. His presence still lingers.
Another day in the life of God . . .
What does it stir in you?
Brokeness
I’m broken. Not the humble kind of broken, but the defective kind of broken.
I wanted to have it all together. . . do all the right things,be a good wife, good mother, good Christian, good toastmaster. . .a model woman. I applied myself to self improvement books, expanding my mind, learning about human nature, and improving my relationships.I tried really hard to put other’s needs above my own.
For many years, even though life wasn’t perfect, it did seem rather charmed. Rick and I had good, fruitful ministry. We had nice homes, cars, schools, and opportunities. The children were well behaved and showed character.
I never really saw our brokenness. My brokenness. I realized I had faults but it’s not the same. Brokenness –defectiveness is different.
Acknowledging my brokeness is humbling because it says I’m not good enough, I’m not strong enough, I’m not smart enough, I’m not consistent enough, I don’t have what it takes, I need help. Ouch. I need help. Needing help is like admitting to a handicap, a limitation, a deficit. It makes me dependent on others, and that frightens me. The bottom line is, I thought if I were defective then maybe I wasn’t loveable.
The realization and owning of my brokenness has given me a new pair of glasses. Now I see! Broken people are some of the most loveable people in the world. They’re not intimidating; they’re humble and grateful. Broken people work better with others; they realize their idea is not always the best and that their thoughts or assumptions are not always right. They realize their advice is not always wanted.
Broken people are learners. They are quicker to offer encouragement or apologies, and they aren’t full of excuses. Being around broken people is comfortable and freeing; there are no pretenses or facades. They give space for error and growth. It’s a much more gracious way of living.
“I’m gloriously broken,” I recently said to a friend. I’m safer to be around, less critical. Who am I to point a finger? Look at what a mess I am. I’m a mess! Even as I write that I smile. I’m so okay with being a mess right now. I am a mess.
What made brokenness okay for me? Jesus.
When my marriage of 30 year crashed and burned I was forced to do some real soul searching. What had brought us to this point? Where did we go wrong? Where did I go wrong? What was my role?
Who better to do soul searching with than Jesus. “Oh Jesus,” I cried. “Help me! I’ve made such a mess of things!” I spent months sitting at the foot of the cross letting Jesus deal with me. He pointed out my sinfulness, my bondage, and my defectiveness.
But Jesus doesn’t point out my flaws with the intention to show me how rotten and unlovable I am. No, he wants to show where the problem lies and reveal Himself, and His truth as the answer. He wants to set me free. And so Jesus and I have been doing rounds of revelation and healing at the cross.
The most wonderful thing about seeing my my defectiveness, before him – is that just when I see how utterly hopeless I am, he scoops me up and lavishly loves me. He loves me in my brokenness, and because He loves me, I’m okay.
I wonder now if it’s possible to own God’s love without owning my brokenness? I think not.
I think the next half of my life will be lived differently. It already is. I don’t have to do everything right; I’m still loved. I don’t have to be the smartest, prettiest, skinniest, most organized, extraordinary woman out there. I don’t have to strive to be better in order to be found loveable. Now I want to be better because Jesus loves me. What a relief.
I don’t have to hope my kids behave a certain way so I look good. I don’t have to explain my broken marriage (which is slowly mending). I don’t have to justify actions or lack of action. I can just be still in Jesus and let him center me. I let him provide me with the reassurances that I matter and I’m significant to Him. It’s all that really matters.
I’m not saying other people don’t count. I want to be loved and respected and admired as much as anyone. However, if that does not happen (because everyone around me is broken too, and can only offer a broken kind of love) then it’s okay. Because, Jesus is safe. Jesus is love. Jesus is truth. Jesus is King. Jesus is my friend.
In my brokenness I discovered Jesus in a way I had not known. Jesus has been waiting all these years for me to come to the end of myself. “Now,” he sighs with relief, “I can really start using you.” I’m blessedly broken.