Repurposed

God does some pretty crazy things. He made a childless man the father of nations; and He made a man who had never seen rain the first boatbuilder. He made a slave the ruler of Egypt; and He made a stutterer his mouthpiece. He made a prostitute the heroine; and He made a shepherd the king. He made a Jewess the queen of Babylon; and He made a virgin the mother of his son. He made a backslidden fisherman the foundation of his church; and He made a persecutor of Christians the greatest missionary of all time. He is an expert at taking the most unlikely people, removing their labels, and repurposing them for the kingdom.

One year ago today, I was in desperate need of repurposing. I can still confidently say that this time last year was possibly the hardest season of my life. There were exterior circumstances surrounding me that were downright tough, and painful, and ugly, and dark. I was in the worst physical condition of my life, second only to the extreme complications I faced as a premature child; and I was slowly losing every person who I loved, leaving me feeling unwanted and unvalued. Those external conditions, however, were not nearly as serious as the problem my internal condition posed. One year ago today, I realized I no longer had any idea who I was. I didn't know that everything I believed about myself was simply a label I had collected along the way, so that was my definition. I didn't know that God was still interested in using me to do something big for his kingdom, so I was done dreaming. I didn't know healing was coming, so I cried myself to sleep every night. I didn't know restoration was just around the corner, so I accepted life would always be this way. I didn't know what I was passionate about, so I lost motivation. I had no idea what I was even doing here, so Jesus had to interrupt me and do some repurposing.

One year ago today, God woke me up in the morning and audibly asked me one really complicated yet beautifully simple question, "What have I created you for?" It was complicated because in that moment, I realized I had spent nearly two years not doing a single thing I was created for since I had lost sight of who I was. It was simple because I knew if I was willing to listen, he was willing to remind me. I went on a journey for the next few weeks in which no one could participate except myself and Jesus. I started dreaming again. I started having vision again. I started hearing again. I started breathing again. Jesus painted for me a picture of my life as he intended it to be, and I had never seen something so beautiful. There was a catch, though. None of what Jesus was speaking to me looked anything like the person I knew myself to be. He was saying "enough" and all I knew was "too much." He was saying "brave" and all I knew was "fearful." He was saying "strong" and all I knew was "weak." He was saying "choose hard" and all I knew was "stay comfortable."

I wonder if that's sort of how Abraham felt as God called the fatherless "father," or how Joseph felt as God whispered "leader" in the bottom of the pit. I wonder if Mary had a hard time hearing "pregnant" as a virgin, or if David cringed at "king" with the shepherd's staff in his hand.

I'm so thankful that Jesus has taken me on a journey of removing the labels I have scribbled in my own handwriting and replacing them with his purpose. I say journey, though, because I understand I am still walking down this road. I still wonder how the girl who just bawled watching The Good Dinosaur is going to handle loving foster kids and adopting children whose stories are full of hurt and pain. I still wonder how the girl who takes everything personally is going to deal with the rejection and relapse of the broken people she has been called to love. At the same time, I have hope as I realize that because of Jesus, the girl who was once so marked by fear and anxiety can now walk into some of the sketchiest places without any fear to share the Gospel. I have hope as I think about how Jesus allowed the 8-year-old germaphobe to grow up and hold the dirtiest hands and wash the dirtiest feet in the dirtiest places. 

I believe that He who started a good work in me will be faithful to see it unto its completion. I believe that He who created you and dreamt up your story before the foundation of the world will do the same for you. If you find yourself in a place of purposelessness, let me introduce you to my God of purpose. If you don't know who you are, let me introduce you to the God who made you with something specific in mind. If you have counted yourself out, count yourself back in, because Jesus is not done with you. That's the Gospel. You and I, we are broken people. We have a tendency to lose sight of our worth, to forget who we are, and to find things to replace the God who created us. But God is so gracious and so full of unfailing love. He was not content to leave us in our brokenness. Before we ever realized our need for a savior, He met that need. Nearly 2,000 years ago, God humbled himself and became a man. He lived a perfect life, something you and I could never do, which enabled him to bear the punishment of death for our imperfection. Jesus Christ allowed himself to be beaten, mocked, and hung on a cross so that you and I would never have to. But death was no match for his perfect love, and he proved it three days later when he walked out of the grave. Because of what Jesus did, you and I can know the Father. We can know who we are. We can have purpose. All he asks of us is total trust and complete surrender. Trust in what he did for us. Surrender of our plans. Surrender of our self-rule to make him Lord. It's a beautiful exchange, isn't it?