Healing and purpose

I thought the best way to deal with my pain was to escape.

To run as far away as I could get from it. That way, I wouldn’t have to endure the anniversary. The gut-wrenching reminder. The day my life had changed forever. For the first time, that is.

The very day I desperately wanted to erase.    

And so I signed up for the church mission trip to Hungary.

Surely, flying thousands of miles across the ocean to another continent would do the trick. Go to a place where they spoke a different language, lived in a different time zone, and wouldn’t have the slightest idea of the recent trauma from which I was still attempting to recover.

I could spend Spring Break hiding my reality. Temporarily pretending it never happened by enjoying ten days discovering a new city rather than wallowing alone in my misery at home.

The goal was to partner with a couple from my home church who’d moved to Gyor as missionaries. This wasn’t my first mission trip. In fact, it was my third. But this time, I felt like a fraud.

A fresh divorcee going to tell people about Jesus? What joke, right? I mean, was I even qualified to open my mouth and speak on behalf of the Lord in my flawed, wounded, and imperfect state?

No one had to know, I reminded myself. I could state the gospel perfectly fine without sharing my circumstances. In fact, doing so would probably do more damage anyway, and the last thing I wanted to do was to appear hypocritical, thus doing a major disservice to God.

But by the end of breakfast the first morning, I learned that my secret was out. That, on the other side of the world, the people who made up the very home church I’d come to assist had been made well aware of my plight for months because they’d been praying for me.

And by the middle of the week, they asked me to share my story because they had questions.

My attempt to hide from pain had proved fruitless. Not only had it accompanied me on the trip, now I was required to face it head on.

I expected to receive judgment. To be told that I was an embarrassment to the body of Christ and useless to the Lord. But I received an outpouring of grace and kindness. Tender encouragement and support, and it was that very week that jumpstarted the miraculous healing journey God had in store for me.

God, in His kindness, knew I needed to practice on a group of tenderhearted strangers because the real work was going to start the moment I got home. When I had to face the people that actually knew me.

Listen, I know it is incredibly hard to speak about our faults and failures. To share our shortcomings and bad decisions. The enemy has convinced us that we need to keep our cards close to our chest because the minute we play our hand, the only thing instore for us is humiliating rejection and condemning judgement.

And, I’ll tell you what, he isn’t totally wrong. You may very well receive judgement. You may lose friends. Others may look at you in a different light than before. But guess what? That’s not your issue.

It’s theirs.

It is a reflection of their hearts and their characters.

Not yours.

Because when you do open up, and you begin to share the struggles, allowing God to use them for His glory, you discover exactly what you’ve been desiring all along.

Healing and purpose.

Dear friend, despite your scrapes and scars, you are not useless to God.

I dare argue that it is those very battle scars that make you even more prepared to do a mighty work for His kingdom.

You’ve been knocked down, hard pressed, crushed – but not abandoned or destroyed. And now, you are primed. You are ready to discover how His strength is made perfect in your weakness. How His ways are higher and better. And how His grace, compassion, and forgiveness run far deeper than you can ever sink.

And you’ll also realize that you are not alone.

Others desperately need to hear your story. They are hungry for your courage. Longing to know someone else has been there and has survived. They need to witness you diligently living out the hope you’ve professed in boldness, even if it is in the midst of scraping yourself up off the floor.

Because, if you ask me, that’s where genuine faith is revealed, anyway. That’s where God’s light shines the brightest.

And, quite often, it is that very weakness we’re afraid to reveal that He most desires to use.

But we must take our eyes off ourselves, lower our guard, and be willing to be used. Will it be uncomfortable? Yes, especially at start. Yet as we hand our pieces to God in service, He will use them in a powerful way and one day, we’ll look back and be amazed at the beautiful work He has done.  

And, believe it or not, you’ll thank Him for it.