“Why am I here? Is this all there is? Am I really doing all God planned for me? And if this is it, why do I feel like I still haven’t fully stepped into the call I was so sure God placed on my life? What did I do wrong? When will I feel like I’m doing enough?”
The questions careened through the corridors of my soul, colliding with each other in their race to claw their way up my throat into audible cries. But, I held them back, struggling to keep my face impassive as I stirred a pot on the stove and continued to make dinner for my family. I had found myself asking God these questions a lot over the previous few months. Struggling to make sense of the war within. Wrestling with the belief that somehow my brokenness had relegated me to a “lesser path” than I had originally been set on. Struggling to rejoice with others in their promotions and new opportunities because I felt stuck and left behind in my own life. Burying the disparity of it all down deep and trying to pretend that everything was fine. That I was content. But like anything that is buried unhealed, it began to fester. And now things had reached critical mass.
For years I had felt caught in a tug of war – simultaneously feeling like I was right where I was supposed to be and wondering what I had done to be placed there. Because even in the midst of my incredibly amazing life – the life I longed for and prayed for – I couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that somewhere along the way, I missed something. That somehow I had failed to step into God’s call on my life. And now, it was too late.
But how did I even get here? Let me give you a little bit of back story.
When I was in my early teens, I had an encounter with God at a youth event that marked me forever. It left me with an unshakeable knowing that God had called me to ministry. And while at the time I had no idea what that might entail, with the exuberance of youth and the words of Isaiah on my lips, I was all in for whatever God had planned. “Here am I! Send me!”
Only a few years later, instead of planning to leave the nest and start my own adventure, I was staring at a coffin that held not only my mother’s body, but the hopes and dreams I had for the future. For a while I was completely adrift, drowning in grief, wrapped up in the everyday responsibilities of running a household, and clinging to God for dear life to keep me from falling into the yawning pit of darkness threatening to swallow me whole.
Gradually though, I did emerge from the fog. God reignited my dreams, set my feet on a new path and hope bloomed again. I launched out on my own, moving across provinces, and pursuing the call God continued to confirm was the direction for me. I was stretched and grew in ways I’d never dreamed possible. Though I had a deep relationship with Jesus and had held onto my faith through hard things, a new foundation was laid as I made my faith my own and discovered what I believed and why for myself. A faith foundation that I didn’t yet know would be critical to carry me through the days ahead. Things were finally looking up.
Without warning, the life I knew shattered in a thousand directions. Betrayal, heartbreak, health issues, mounting losses, and a complete crumbing of all I thought to be true. The blows kept coming, one after the other without reprieve, until I felt reduced to a myriad of fragments. Clutching my shards close, I wondered if I could ever be whole again.
But God…Faithful to make beauty of the broken pieces we surrender to His Hands, He took what I thought could never be mended and like a Japanese kintsugi artist, He fastened the pieces together, the cracks sealed with the golden Light of His Presence and Power into a testimony of His great Love and Goodness. He brought wholeness and restoration. He worked healing and forgiveness in my heart. Sent me love in the shape of my husband and best friend. Gave me gifts and blessings that I never imagined I would have. And even when the road I walked wound through valleys and storms, He held me close and carried me through.
Over and over again, God showed up, picked me up, and put me back together. Over and over I had seen Him at work in my life. He had been so good to me! So what on earth was my problem? If this was my story, my testimony, why was I now struggling with such feelings of inadequacy and disappointment with the amazing life I was finally able to enjoy? Why did I still feel like I hadn’t fulfilled a mandate God had given? That I was no longer “fit” for His service?
Because the enemy loves to prey on our brokenness and distract us from the truth.
…what we see, isn’t always the whole picture, or even the correct one.
When God first impressed the call to ministry on my heart, I was confident of the direction my life was to take. And yet, year after year, as doors closed again and again, as I was rerouted from my desired destination, I started to question. But God had proven Himself faithful, so I would cling to that and keep walking. Obedient in big steps and little ones, going where I felt the Spirit directed, getting up again when I stumbled, allowing God to redirect me when I got off track, and yet wondering why so many opportunities were passing me by. Watching as others around me stepped into things that I had hoped for, prayed for, begged for – asking God “Why not me? What have I done wrong? When is it my turn?” – I soldiered on. Staying planted and faithfully serving where I felt the Holy Spirit directed – even when it was hard, even when I felt hollow and the purpose was obscure – but through it all still never feeling like I’d “successfully” stepped into that elusive “calling” I’d been so certain of in my youth.
I was unaware that deep inside something had begun to shift. Slowly, insidiously, the enemy’s lies began to take root. Life events offering proof that there was no way God could use me. Not like He could use someone else. Because I was damaged. Visibly imperfect. Underqualified. Not good enough. Not educated enough. Not strong enough. Not beautiful enough. Just…not enough. Somewhere along the way, I had been disqualified from the “perfect will” God had originally intended for me and now I would have to be satisfied with being “second string.” A back up. A second choice.
Would you be surprised to know that the story I started this post with took place only a couple of months ago? It’s true. It’s why I haven’t posted anything recently. It was all just too raw. I was still wrestling through all of this and feeling so “stuck” and yet unable to reconcile that with all of the good that I have in my life. Feeling like a fraud for speaking about God’s goodness again and again, writing about learning to rest in the peace of God, and then entertaining these kinds of questions.
Have you found yourself here too? Mired in the whys, or just “stuck” in the mundane, every-day, routines of life? Wondering if your own shattered pieces have disqualified you from the “good plan” God might have once had for your life? Struggling to find purpose or meaning for your life, even while living a “good” life? Has someone dismissed your feelings as trivial? Are you afraid to even admit that you have entertained these thoughts or doubts? Have you questioned your call or the purpose for your life?
If you can answer those questions with a yes, then don’t lose heart. You are not alone. The questions are real and what you’re wrestling with isn’t trivial. It matters. But that’s not where this story ends!
As I read to my children before bed yesterday evening from 2 Kings chapter 6, I was reminded that what we see, isn’t always the whole picture, or even the correct one. I was reading the story of Elisha, a prophet in Israel, who was surrounded by the army of an enemy king. The army had besieged the city where Elisha was staying during the night, intent on carrying out the king’s command to kill him. When Elisha’s servant got up early the next morning, he was terrified at what greeted him. But Elisha told him not to fear, because “those that are with us are more than those that are with them.” In that moment, all the servant could see was that it was the two of them against an entire army. But when Elisha prayed that God would open his servant’s eyes to see, suddenly he could see beyond his physical reality and realized that the army of the Lord, horses and chariots of fire in great numbers, were covering the hillside to deliver them.
The servant’s original sight had been flawed because it was limited and incomplete. It was based on the facts that he knew. But when God opened his eyes to see, the reality changed. I think we often see like that servant did. We take in the information around us – some truth, some distortions of the truth, and some outright lies we have accepted as truth – and use that as the lens through which to see and judge what is happening in our lives. What we “see” evokes very real questions and emotions – things that can feel true and seem to be reinforced by our life circumstances or the words spoken by those around us. But perhaps, like Elisha’s servant, we aren’t actually seeing the Truth. Perhaps, it’s in these moments that we need to ask for sight.
God sees you, just as He saw me, in the middle of our questions and our tears. He sees and He cares. He feels our pain with us and longs for us to see as He does. He’s just waiting for us to ask for sight. So, don’t be afraid to ask the hard questions. Don’t be afraid to acknowledge your fears and your limited sight with God. He saw me and He heard my cries. And He showed up! Like He always does when we seek Him. He wasn’t angry with my questions. He didn’t dismiss what I was feeling. He came close and opened my eyes to see the Truth that had been there all along. And I can’t wait to share with you just how He did that!
Stay tuned for Part 2, where I will dive into what I’ve discovered and how God used it to uncover some deeply held lies and completely change my perspective .
Until next time, friends…
Of Shattered Things 