Broken

Years ago, I heard a sermon called "turkey vultures and china plates". I honestly don't remember most of it, but I do remember one illustration. The illustration of a china plate, broken into pieces, and those pieces being re-formed into the image of Christ. The smaller the pieces, the more like him the plate could become.

I feel broken. Emotionally fragile. I think for the first time in my life I'm really "counting the cost" because for the first time in my life there's something I really, really wanted but I lost it because I followed God here. And that hasn't been easy. We sing so many songs: "you're all I want, you're all I need, you're everything" "All of you is more than enough for all of me, for every thirst and every need. You satisfy me with your love, and all I have in you is more than enough" And I find myself questioning that. God is more than enough. He is everything. But he is not ALL I want. Right now I'm finding this quote by St. Teresa of Avila much more true in my life, “I don’t love You. I don’t want to love You. But I want to want to love You.” Except, I think I would say, "I don't trust you with my life. I don't want to trust you with my life. But I want to want to trust you with my life"

You see, there are no guarantees to following Jesus. Actually, there are. Here are the guarantees we have, "Remember the words I spoke to you: ‘No servant is greater than his master.' If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also." (John 15:20) and "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33).

So, in saying yes to following Jesus, I'm saying yes to trouble and persecution. Maybe there will also be marriage, children, a fruitful ministry, close friends, a church I love. But, maybe there will be loneliness, failure, cancer, disappointment. Moses lived in exile for 40 years, then spent another 40 years wandering the wilderness, leading people who were rebellious, stubborn, ungrateful, and whining. He never entered the promised land. And yet, God "would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to a friend" (Ex. 31:11). Moses was a humble man, who followed God faithfully, much more so than I do, and his personal life was definitely far from desirable.

Of course, Moses saw God work powerfully and miraculously. He witnessed things I can only dream of. And of course, once we're in heaven, there will be no sorrow, no tears. We will rejoice with our Savior. And, every sacrifice, every struggle, every tear will be worth it. But right now, in the midst of struggles and tears, it's hard to feel motivated by heaven, a concept that is still that- a concept- to me. Streets of gold, gates of pearls, it all sounds very nice, and if Jesus promised it is, it must be, but it is beyond my understanding. Heaven deals with the infinite, and in my finiteness, it's impossible for me to grasp.

And so, I'm left, standing at a cross-roads. My heart is shattered on the ground at my feet. Ahead, Jesus beckons. And I'm scared to follow, because I don't know what lies ahead. I know he promises to go with me. To never forsake me. To give me joy and abundant life. But maybe the way leads through the valley of the shadow of death. Maybe I will learn joy in the midst of sorrow. Maybe I will learn to feel his hand when circumstances make me feel forsaken.

I once read the biography of a Chinese house church leader. Imprisoned, beaten so badly he couldn't walk for years, and kept in solitary confinement, his reflection when he finally miraculously escaped was that his time in prison had been so sweet because of the intimacy of his relationship with Jesus. When I read that, my soul longed for that sort of intimacy with God. And yet, at the same time, I told Him, I don't want to go through the pain and suffering he went through. But, something tells me that it is the furnace that refines us, trouble that drives us in desperation into God's arms.

I can't even claim to be suffering anything truly unique or devastating. And still, I hesitate, this little bit of pain making me question full surrender my Savior. But also making me question myself. Making me question how much I truly love Him, how committed I am. Because, if something as small as this makes me question Him, how would I respond if I were thrown into solitary confinement, if I lost a child, if I suddenly found out I had a form of aggressive cancer? Would I cling to Jesus? Would I trust in His love, in His ability to use even the most horrible of circumstances for good? Or would I doubt Him, and walk away?

But the other road? Jesus isn't on it. And as scary as the thought of following Jesus wherever he leads might be, going without him is even more terrifying. There's no meaning without him. No light without him. No one to hold my hand in the valley of the shadow of death. There are no guarantees on this road either. Sure, I might make my own choices, but those choices could lead to failure, to heart break, to all the things I fear.

And so, I find myself, stalling at the cross-roads. I know I won't, I can't follow the road without Jesus. I don't want to. There's only emptiness there. And I know that with Jesus, I have the best companion for my journey and an incredible destination at the end. I'm just wishing there were some guarantees that along the way some of the things I'm hoping for would happen. But there aren't. And I need to step down that road, following my savior, regardless of the circumstances, knowing that He will go with me, He will provide for me, His love for me is greater than I can understand, and no matter what the road looks like, He will provide strength and joy.

Luke 14 25-33 Large crowds were traveling with Jesus, and turning to them he said: “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters—yes, even his own life—he cannot be my disciple. And anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple. “Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Will he not first sit down and estimate the cost to see if he has enough money to complete it? . . . In the same way, any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple."