This wasn’t part of my plan.
Once upon a time, if God had asked my opinion on the course my life should take, I would have suggested that He reveal His love to the world by making me a shining example of favor and grace. My marriage would be so happy, my children so beautiful and brilliant, and all of our endeavors so very successful, everyone who beheld our awesomeness would line up to follow Jesus.
But God didn’t ask my opinion. On the contrary, every day ordained for me was written in His book before I was born to have or give an opinion. Every day written with divine purpose and with perfect love.
And so, my life unfolds as written, and the day came when the page turned, and He took my hand and led me into a world I never would have chosen to enter.
The world of the disabled. Of hospitals and nurses and therapists and wheelchairs. Of dire predictions and long sleepless nights and a thousand questions echoing into the dark unknown.
The world of those who know they are broken.
Maybe you’ve heard the story — how a good shepherd loves a wayward lamb enough to break her legs, carrying her on his shoulders rather than leaving her to perish in her foolish wanderings. The brokenness is her gift. Her salvation.
This is my story. And it has become beautiful to me. To be broken and carried, emptied and filled, to gladly give what I cannot keep to gain what I cannot lose.
And the pages turn, and we board a plane, and we land in a place where my smallness is magnified. I know that I know that I am not sufficient for these things, and this is my joy.
Because God meets us on the pages of our stories. Meets us in our limping weakness and sweeps us up in His magnificent strength, taking us where we never imagined we would go. We wheel suitcases full of hope across borders where x-ray machines are out of order and guards just happen to be on break. We declare good news to a people whose language we can’t speak, and we are heard and understood. We dance with them, dine with them, laugh and cry with them. We look into the eyes of women whose homes and culture and daily lives are worlds apart from our own, and we see a family likeness. Light shines in darkness. He is here. The Lover of their souls. The Writer of their stories. The One who makes all things new.
I spent two weeks in Central Asia, carried by the Good Shepherd. To those who prayed, thank you with all my heart. God answered. The ripples continue. I’m bowed low with the wonder of it all.
Once upon a time, if God had asked my opinion on the course my life should take, I would have suggested that He reveal His love to the world by making me a shining example of favor and grace. Now I understand that’s exactly what He has done.
Stories to come.