I've been asked to share a testimony of God's grace in my life at our upcoming women's brunch.
Me? Really? My mind races to all of the godly women in our small church body, like the ones demonstrating such deep faith and courage as they're battling for their lives against cancer. Or the others who, at least on the outside, appear to have it all together- I'm sure they're having amazing devotional lives, eating healthy, keeping clean homes, and balancing all the challenges life throws their way, right? :) THOSE are the women that surely need to share.
I mean, who wants to hear from the gal trying to survive the day and raiding every kitchen cabinet after dark looking for any hidden stash of chocolate? The mom being driven crazy by her wonderful, yet disobedient young children? Who's going to line up to hear someone who's battling hard against mental anxiety and panic attacks? And someone who finds it impossible to keep a house AND feed people AND like, have friends, too? I can't even keep hair on my child's head, for goodness sake. I'm a mess through and through. What encouragement does someone like me have to offer women like them? I'm completely unqualified.
But I guess that's the point, isn't it?
Sharing about God's grace isn't about me standing up to tell everyone how great I am or how great I'm doing. It's actually the opposite. It's IN MY MESSINESS and my INability to "do life" that God has poured out undeserved blessing after blessing upon me in Christ.
I really have very little to share about what I've done. You know what I've done? Just like my tantruming two year old, I've pretty much screamed and kicked against God's plan for my life the whole way through. That's what I've contributed. His plans weren't my plans. I didn't want to be infertile. I didn't want to have a bald daughter. I didn't want to be "that" family.
In hindsight, I can see it was out of His great love and for my good that God stripped me of so many idols I didn't even realize I had. It was through a long, very painful process that felt more like dying He brought new life.
In His slow, patient tenderness, and in the midst of all my whining, God wrote a better story upon my life than I ever could. That's grace.
And I guess that's what I have to share.