So my story. A long time ago, I told God that I would do whatever he wanted me to do. Growing up in a Christian school and the conservative church, it went without saying that this is indicative of overseas missions or full time Christian ministry. My heart broke for all the people overseas, but I knew from a young age that overseas missions was not my calling. After telling my mentor, it became "obvious" to everyone around me that Little Miss Super Involved was called to be one thing and one thing only...a pastor's wife...more specifically a youth pastor's wife. I remember thinking, ummmm...ok? Sure. That's better than being out of God's will. Now trust me. What I know now is that the youth pastors wives I know are rocking awesome. However, growing up, the understanding is that they are strictly in the supportive, administrative role, never actually pastoring unless it was strictly in a group of females. I knew that God wanted me for more, but I remember feeling helpless, that if I didn't grow up and marry a youth pastor, I would be disappointing every spiritual person in my life.
I know now that I am not the only one who feels his way. A friend of mine somewhat recently shares almost this same story but from a guy's point of view. I honestly don't remember being able to say much more than, "Wow, that's so true!" I mean, how often do you hear someone literally speak the words that you have kept in your heart your whole life and not ever dared to speak? Even now, knowing that there is destiny outside of the circles of full time and overseas ministries presents a challenge. After having that "prophetic word" over you your whole life, you cannot deny that God has plans for you, but it also leaves a crack for the Enemy to attack, saying we have it all wrong and we can't be in the perfect will unless *start laundry list of legalisms.* Growing up in the church has it's challenges, especially when those close to you are in ministry themselves.
So my story...I have been helping a friend of mine with his outreach ministry to the neighborhood kiddos for the past few weeks. From my first week, I knew my life would be changed. You see, I had been and am still asking God to take me to the next level. I am also in the processof getting certified for foster parenting. Honestly, a big fear I have had for a while on this has been that I don't know if I could love other kids like I am supposed to...like how God wants us to.
So the past few weeks, I've been connecting with a few particular kids, and I take their spirits home with me. Some nights I lie awake, their hearts heavy on mine. It's how I feel when I know Isaiah is with his dad overnights. I know what this is. It's love. It's heartache for their heartache...and I don't even know what kind of heartache it is.
So here is a confession. I've been fighting it too. When I see them, I connect, but I guard. It's honestly something that I have had to repent for. Today in the car actually. I was driving home from a foster training class. All day, I had been listening to upbeat, energetic songs. However, one song that I love came on...and I listened. There's something about slow songs and gutwrenching lyrics that make you honest even if it has nothing to do with what you are hiding. You see, by not connecting as deeply as we are called to, a part of me thought it would be doing the kids a favor, since I will somehow one day let them down. It's one fewer abandonment or heartbreak if I keep it at a distance.
Last night that changed. There is a little guy (we can call him "Little R") who has a spirit of recklessness. He doesn't really have boundaries. He tends to lash out and get violent. Of course, I love the dysfunctional ones, so he and I have been friends for the last few weeks. We have something in common, after all. Dysfunction was once a friend of mine. Well, last night he was again just a smudge too rambunctious, so we partnered up. We were playing a game, and we were having a blasty blast. Well, it turned into a competition, and we got out. So we walked over to the grass, and he just jumped into my arms and said, "I love you, Mama. I love you! Mama! You my Mama!"
As I hugged him and told him "I love you too, kiddo," I felt his spirit change from one of recklessness to one of security. In that moment, he was safe, and he was loved. He was calm, and he was peaceful. And after that brief moment, my heart broke wide open. So long I have heard it preached that love multiplies. I just didn't know how someone like me, though now healed, could love so much after so much brokenness.
So the moment ended, but I am still feeling the effects. I have known, but now I better understand that I cannot love these kids on my own. I cannot even love my own child on my own. As much as I want to, I can't. Perfect love casts out fear. If I am scared to love, I am useless, paralyzed and broken.
Don't be afraid to open your heart. Sometimes, it's gonna hurt. Sometimes, it's not going to make sense. Sometimes, it may seem that it's way more trouble than it's worth. Let Christ's love then overwhelm you. His love is perfect, not ours.
Oh...and about that pastor thing?
Whether I marry a pastor or not, I am pastoring every day, every moment that I take time to listen, to hug, to support...I may not be up in a pulpit or leading mass revivals in Africa, but I am where God has placed me for this season of my life.
Listen to the slow songs...they can change everything.
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