Today was perhaps the first day in a long, long while that I realized, with happy joy, that God can and does indeed use me. He does have a place, a plan, and a use for me after all.
Inwardly I’ve doubted that for some time now. Certainly I “knew” the truth—that God has a plan for each of us, that God has a mission and a ministry for each of us. But inwardly I couldn’t quite believe that it was true of me.
I know that I’m 1 part perfectionist, 1 part my own biggest critic, and 1 part chief of sinners. I hold myself to a higher standard than probably anyone else on the face of the earth does. So it gets frustrating when I my performance doesn’t match up to my own expectations. My heart—which already seems so full of pain and regret for what could have been—becomes as a stone weight inside my chest. I can feel its pressure pushing . . . pushing . . . pushing.
I’m not sure how long this path of cardiac alchemy—of changing a heart of stone into a heart of living flesh—may take. I do know at least part of that depends upon me, upon my willingness to be, as my tagline says, “Real” . . . to be willing to be hurt, to be willing to suffer, to be willing to suffer the pains of healing and growth. But in reality it depends upon what paths God chooses for me, the roads He causes me to walk down as He molds, shapes, and chisels away at the cold granite. Not only my heart but my hurt lay in the skilful hands of the One before Whom all my paths truly lie.
It is that same God who, despite my ignorance of His workings, been using me as His sacred tool all along. Hence my joy at discovering this truth anew.