Saturday, April 16 11:15 PM
I was fast asleep at this time because I went to bed at 10 pm. Yes, at 10 pm on a Saturday. I am old and tired like that.
In the middle of my REMming, I hear the “mmeeerrr” of the vibrating phone beneath my pillow. When you’re tired, and fast asleep, there’s little to no chance you will think of anyone but yourself. Thus, the phone was silenced. And back to zzz I went.
Sunday, April 17 8:08 AM
I look at my phone and see that it was one of the co-pastors of my church in Berkeley who had called.
“Oh shoot, what a rebel. Rejected the call of a pastor. Oops.”
Staring at the ceiling, still in bed, I call back immediately
“Morning, Vicky”
In my ultra sexy groggy morning voice, I replied, “Hey, sorry I missed your call.”
“Ah no worries, I was just wondering last night if you could lead worship today, but nah, don’t worry about it…”
Fifteen seconds later, I hang up and lay still in bed for another couple of minutes.
He wanted me to…WHAT?! Lead…HHHWAT?!
If you’ve been reading my past posts, God recently led me back to the church I had tried to run away from.
I don’t know how to describe the experience of coming back. It has made me feel wicked small…that’s the least I can say.
Why? Because I left this church for really selfish and sinful reasons. My surface-level b.s. answer was that I wanted to find a church with single working sisters, people like me, in my stage of life.
But, deep, deep, oh deep down, down in my heart, it came down to this: I believed I needed a better church. A church that had a bigger congregation of committed people, perfect ones. A church that had a more “successful” ministry. A church that wasn’t made up of a bunch of weirdos…(Weirdos, you know who you are. I love you guys dearly, but you are so, sooo weird.)
I thought I deserved better. Ministry was easy for me, following God was easy, doing my quiet times was easy. It didn’t make sense to me that it wasn’t “easy” for everyone else. Obviously, I was in the wrong place…right?
I’m usually a pretty disciplined person, but oftentimes this strength has become my greatest weakness. I didn’t have the grace to minister unto others because I was unable to sympathize with people. In my pride, there was no room for love. And so I left quietly and kinda chased after other things for awhile, completely unaware of what God was already doing in my heart. (Read previous blog post for that part of the story)
Pretend you’re a wife who cheated on a really amazing husband, and then you’re coming back to ask to be part of the home again. You would feel terrible and ridiculous for even thinking of coming back, right? This is how I felt walking back into the church three Sunday ago, but I couldn’t help but believe it was where God’s Spirit was leading me.
I came back, really ashamed. I heard the welcomes and the warm greetings of my brothers and sisters, and I was just thinking, “No. No, no. Not me. This is NOT what I deserve. Stop, please.”
The kindness of the family I have in Berkeley has brought me to utter … blah. It’s been overwhelming. You know those cheesy loves songs that sing about how love takes your breath away and all that crap? It’s for reals when people know the love of Christ.
I was expecting people to treat me like the older brother in the parable of the prodigal son, with judgmental looks and interrogative questions. And even though it wouldn’t have been the “gracious” response, it was what I rightfully deserved, and I was ready to take it.
I went back to the church feeling so out of place, so undeserving to be in a home again. It’s been hard for me to even disciple Ashley…she doesn’t know this, but the past couples weeks, I haven’t met up with her regularly, because in many ways, I’m just cringing at the realization of my wretchedness, at just how dirty my heart is and I’m humbled that God would entrust me to lead someone else after I have failed so badly in my own walk.
When I was asked to lead worship on Sunday, I was speechless. Even though there would be no physical way for me to do it anyways, I was still shocked that I would be asked.
Me?! No way, man. After what I did?! I can’t. I’m a sinner. I’m like the worst sinner in this group of people. I cheated on you guys. What LOVE… is this?!?!
I had to learn this the hard way, but I’m thankful I learned it the hard way: Ministry is something WAY undeserved. A privilege. A joy..
For the longest time, I thought of myself worthy to serve. Of course I didn’t say it out loud, but I believed it in the depths of my heart that I was holy enough, talented enough, equipped enough, good-looking enough…to lead people to Jesus.
And yet somehow, with this disgusting attitude in my heart, God still loved me enough to draw me out for 1.5 years and show me that He loves me with a grace that is beyond my comprehension.
He still loved me enough to die on Calvary for me, even when he knew THIS is how I would treat Him and His beloved church.
If the church of Christ can love me this much, how much GREATER the love of my gracious Redeemer!
WOWmazing.
Twas grace that taught my heart…to fear.
And grace, my fears relieved.
The word Hallelujah has a whole new meaning this Easter. This past Sunday I was reminded that Hallelujah is the highest form of praise- a praise that recognizes the gap that was bridged when Jesus died on the cross and came back to life so that God could LIVE in me, despite my own mistakes and wrongs and sins. God is victorious.
…
Hallelujah, baby.
Side Note:
I read this quote by Tim Keller the other day:
“Many Christians (though not all) testify that when they first became aware of their need for God, they went through a time of immaturity in which they became extremely religious. They diligently sought to mend their ways and do religious duties to “clean up their lives.” They made tearful “surrenders” to God at church services. They “gave their lives to Jesus” and “asked him into their hearts.” But so often they were only just resolving to be very good and very religious, hoping this would procure the favor and blessing of God. At this stage they tended to have a lot of emotional ups and downs, feeling good when they made a spiritual commitment and despondent when they failed to keep a promise to God. They felt a great deal of anxiety. They were on their way to discovering God in the gospel, but they were not there yet!”
This quote is why I was inspired to write this blog post.
Growing up in church, no one ever warned me about this whole pit of religious Pharisaic pride that I would fall into. Of course there were the warnings about self righteousness and all, but I had no idea what it looked like because Christians don’t walk around saying that they are prideful and super religious and no one ever shared with me how God redeemed them from their spiritual pride. But I wish they did, or at least someone did. Not that it would’ve kept me from falling, but I think it would’ve been encouraging to know I wasn’t alone in this. If you’re in this pit right now, you’re not alone.
So this my living example of how God still drew me in, just as I was, cocky, religious and so immature. This is the gospel in my life. The work of Christ in a church girl.
I hope you get to see it in yours too. Look for it. It’s there, and it’s amazing.
