I had been home from camp for a week when she called. A week that felt like an eternity and a blink, all in one. There was too much time to think, too many regrets and pains crowding my thoughts. But yet the six days I had been home were not nearly long enough to face each of the uncertainties. I tried, but the days passed too quickly and the questions were too deep for six short days. And then she called.
"Hi, we were wondering if you could share a testimony next Sunday about the things that God did this summer?"
"Oh. Sure."
As soon as I hung up, I felt like I made a mistake. Because honestly, I didn't see what God did this summer. Staff training week I was the epitome of pride. Teen week one, I used every excuse possible and didn't know how to handle responsibility. Junior week I was sick. And then the next week I corrected my girls in frustration more than I loved them. Teen week two was great, but so what? One good week out of five means nothing, does it? And then there was that last week -- the one that had me leaving camp feeling drained, burnt out, and discouraged. What did God do this summer? Last summer I returned with stories of campers getting saved daily, of hardened hearts melting soft at the Word of God. Last summer I gave my all and I can clearly see how God worked... But this summer? I returned with baggage, questions, and doubts. I didn't come home victorious, but beaten. I saw over and over and over that I can't do this on my own.
Now, it's two months later. I've been home for 81 days and there are still lingering doubts. There are unanswered questions and things that I don't understand. I was hoping for a semester of ease, of quiet growth and finding rest. I wanted a semester of investing in people and spending time with Jesus constantly. But no, this semester started with sickness that lasted a month. Sickness that became an excuse to not be intentional and to make it all about me. Sickness that's left exhaustion and a daily feeling like I'm drowning. Beyond the physical sickness, there are broken relationships and heartache that no one sees. There's a constant busy-ness and it's leaving me so empty. It's the middle of the semester and I'm discouraged and ready to quit and defeated yet again. There are doubts and am I doing any of this right?
It's a nightly battle, this fight for joy. Yes, there's peace that's real and stabilizing. But there's also a very real sense of failure and defeat and discouragement. I don't have answers, and really I can't even tell you what's bringing on this pain.
And here and now, again and again Jesus is drawing me close. He's promising me that if I run to him he will welcome me always with open arms. Arms that were spread wide and nailed to the cross just to prove his love and offer me redemption. But why would he do that for me, unworthy? This summer and this semester show how inadequate and unworthy and broken I really am. Because let's be honest-- I'm so very broken. So why would Jesus love me? Why would he choose to use me? Why give me opportunities to serve, knowing I'll fail again and again?
Why? Because it's really not about me. It's not about me and my brokenness, but rather about Him and his healing. His redemption. His strength. His glory. I came back to that favorite passage tonight :
"Whom have I in heaven but you?
And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
But God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."
Whom do I have but you, God? I don't have my strength. I don't have anything going for me but your grace. Who is like you, Jesus? Who is faithful and always ready to listen to my cries, but you? Who is always ready to guide and lead me and give overwhelming peace, even on the darkest nights? Who assures me that I am loved and that I am beloved? And what on this earth can I desire but you-- nothing else satisfies the way you do. I've searched, looked everywhere for something that will quench this thirst and ache in my soul, but I keep coming back to you. I've looked for answers to these doubts that still crowd my mind, but all I can find is you. You're everywhere, and that's enough. You're the only thing that can satisfy. Truly, the only thing.
So yeah, I'm broken. I'm so inadequate. But there's redemption at the cross. There's a process of healing, and no matter how long that takes my God is not going to give up on me. He's going to keep working. My days may be full of discouragement and defeat, but that's not the end of the matter. There's always grace, always mercy-- new every day. I can rest knowing that I don't need answers to all my unresolved issues, I need Jesus. He keeps me near him throughout the confusion and discouragement, and that is what I need. I need him more than anything else in my life. And he freely gives of himself, always.
And that gives me strength.
Even here, even now.
So Jesus, keep me near the cross. Because I want nothing but You.
