February 22, 2011

My life, broken and blessed

Reposted from Jan. 7, 2011
I sit at my desk to begin my work today. Pondering the bread of my life. Is it enough for others to eat?
A candle is burning, coffee brewing.  The office is quiet. I am aware of the voices and pressures that tug at my consciousness.  I find this work so wholly good, beautiful, lifegiving.  I feel honored to sit in this chair, move forward into work that seems significant to me in my small sphere. People to care for, questions to think about, administration of programs, classes to prepare, and messages to write.  This is holy work.  It is more than I am capable of doing.  I am a bit of a fraud, really.  My insides are so small, and my thoughts aren’t deep enough or wise enough to be who all of these different people and facets expect me to be.  All I have to offer is myself.
There is someone who could do this job better.
There is someone who would preach with more relevance and clarity.
There is someone who would pray with more fervor and intentionality.
There is someone who would administrate with more careful precision and follow through.
There is someone who is more mature and wise, someone who is more equipt. Someone who my students would like better, my staff would rather work for, and people would respect more.
But here I am. Small me, to do work that is God’s work. Deep and holy, and wide and shallow. Everday and ordinary, spectacular and holy.And all I have been given is my gifts, my energy, my background, my story, and my experience with God.  That’s really what this is all about.  Not what I have to bring or what others would do better.  But that my God is big enough for this work and somehow, God seems to like to partner and use people who are not enough.
And that is enough for today and everyday day.
I believe in my heart somewhere past the voices that God can use me.  I really believe that.  I really believe that I am called and prepared and ready to take one what comes in my path today. And that there is no one else who do the work that I have been given in the manner that I can do it.  I press into that truth and breathe it into my being.
My life has been bread broken to feed the multitudes inasmuch as I press into Jesus.
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