I was minding my own business, driving to church, when suddenly I heard the familiar stutter. It was the engine, and it was talking to me:
Only I was miles from the gas station, I was wearing a pair of red heels completely not conducive to walking, and it was ninety-five degrees outside.
Easy, right? Make a phone call. Only (and I kid you not) it was at this very second my phone began to scream death chants at me. I’m dying! I’m dying! Beep. Beep.
I felt like I was on Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, but with only one lifeline. I knew there was enough juice to make exactly one phone call as I veered to the side of the road and searched for the hazards on my husband’s Jeep.
(Did I mention it’s my husband’s Jeep? That the gas gauge is broken? That he apparently determines when it needs fuel by “how it feels when the engine cranks”? Nice.)
So I called a deacon from church. I listened hopefully as his phone rang again… and again… and again… finally to be answered. Only he was at the beach. Nowhere near my stranded car.
My deacon-friend blurted the church number quickly enough for me to hang up and dial the pastor’s wife, who sent a search party to the highway just as my phone breathed its last.
(And why did I not call my husband? He also was having a rough night and accidentally left his phone on the kitchen table.)
I arrived at church in time to teach four out of my five classes. But it wasn’t pretty. I was hot, I was sticky, and I was in a mood. Also, I’m pretty sure four out of every five kids won’t be coming back to VBS tonight because of the gas fumes that were leaking from my pores.
I tell you this story as a confession:
I used to obsess about “having it together”.
I couldn’t teach, couldn’t write, couldn’t contribute unless my life resembled a perfectly pristine, starched, white shirt.
I think it’s something we do as Christians; we don’t want people to know when we screw up. We don’t want to admit we don’t have it all together.
But God has something different to say about us. He wants us to do our best—all for His glory—but trust that He uses our weaknesses as strengths for His kingdom.
1 Corinthians 1 says, But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise;
God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong.
God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not —to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him.
Feeling flawed today? Like you don’t have it all together?
Go ahead. Breathe deeply. Let it go. God might just choose to use that to further His kingdom.