Broken Dreams

For years I wanted to be a missionary. I was raised in the ’80s. We are the World was one of my favorite songs. Missions work seemed like the ultimate adventure, and still allowed me the opportunity to help others.

When I was first shamed, my pastor knew my desire. He told me several times that he didn’t want me at his church, so maybe I should just go be a missionary. Not knowing what was happening, I decided that missions work was out of the question for me, because I was so messed up I couldn’t even be a good saint, much less someone who could reach out and touch others.

For years after that, I hid the pieces of my dream. I built some other dreams, and tried to follow them instead. And I did. But I wasn’t satisfied.

Dreams mean a lot to people. If someone shares their dream with you, treasure it, protect it, and encourage it. Don’t kill it, crush it, or break it. Dreams are precious things, but they are fragile, after all.

No, I don’t see myself biking across China passing out bibles. But God has a purpose and it isn’t too late to find it. My childhood dream was glorious, but in reality it wasn’t so much about traveling the world as it was about helping others and doing something for God. Maybe its time to brush the dust off of my dreams, to polish them a bit and examine them in the light of experience. Maybe they weren’t so broken, after all. Even if they were, I think I know now Who can fix them.

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Ministering and spiritual gifts

I had a dream last night that I was back in a church like the unhealthy ones I’ve been part of. In the dream, though I didn’t really know anyone, I was asked to “do” a banquet–big decorations, some of the food, all of the set up. In my dream I accepted because I was being chosen to minister. As I was decorating, other were coming to interrupt, telling me they needed things. I told them I had to complete my tasks. (The things they were asking for were petty and whiny, so I still don’t have a problem with having said no.) I drug stuff all over the place, decorated everything, cooked three dishes, got the plates and food ready to be served… and no one would eat. The pastor’s wife then announced that she had prepared individual plates of food already, which would be of more interest. I felt like I’d failed at ministering to everyone because they wouldn’t eat.

When I woke up, I realized something that it’s taken nearly 30 years for me to realize. NEVER, in all the times I was asked to serve in any capacity that was beyond what should have been asked of me or was beyond my talent, was I being looked at for ministry (which is what I’d always hoped, that I’d somehow become part of the inner circle). Ministry at these churches was considered being a pastor, pastor’s wife, church leader, singer, musician, or great speaker. I was (and never would become) any of those.

They didn’t choose me for ministry because there were plenty of people to speak and sing and do all of those things. Those came with position and recognition and praise and were far more sought after. Besides, others got a better emotional response from people. They were respected more highly for ‘letting the Holy Ghost move through them so powerfully.’ I wasn’t good at evoking emotional responses from others, but even when I did, they said it wasn’t enough. Instead, they asked me to do the ‘dirty work’, the behind the scenes, often overwhelming tasks that they either didn’t want to do or wanted to show me or others they could do better, whether I was any good at them or not. It never once occurred to me that whether anyone said it or not, I was letting the Holy Ghost work through me every time I bent over backwards trying to do everything that was asked of me with a right attitude, and every time I did these things because I loved those I was serving.

I’ve been to churches that took the spiritual gifts assessments since leaving my unhealthy group, and I’ve run away fast. I don’t want them to know that one of my gifts is giving. I don’t want them to see that I’m a responsible, ethical, independent person who will do way more than any one person should be asked, just to get a job done and just to ‘help’. I know what happens when the wrong people find this out, and I know in the end I feel wrung out and walked over… and too often put down and insulted because I either ‘didn’t do enough’ or didn’t do ‘it’ right.

The thing is, no gift and no ministry should be about someone tagging you to do EVERYTHING. No gift or ministry should leave you burned out and used up. Gifts and ministries are meant to be used cooperatively with others’ gifts and ministries and should leave all of you feeling energized and complete, even if you are exhausted (which sometimes does happen in a good way).

Still, my former church had it wrong. They would say of singers and speakers that ‘the Holy Ghost move through them powerfully’ when the crowd had an emotional response and overlooked those whom the Holy Ghost moved through powerfully, not for a few minutes but for hours and days as they poured themselves into their tasks and into others because they loved God and others or even just because they were willing.

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God’s Love, My Trust

…It’s not a matter of whether I love God, but of whether I know he loves me, and what my understanding of that love is.

If you love me, let go of the hurt.

But justice…

No, let go. Do you not know that as deeply as you are hurt right now, as angry as you are about the injustice done, I am more? You are my child. Give it to me. Let me go seek out the troublesome one. Let me take care of this for you. I love you. I don’t want you to hurt. Just as the father would seek out those who hurt his daughter, so I will seek out those who hurt you, my daughter.

I’ve never known that kind of parent.

It’s ok. Let me be that father to you. Let my love flourish in you, cover you, protect you, heal you. Let go of your right—

But I do have a right!

Yes, you do, as a human who was treated unjustly. But you do not have that right as my child. As one who is truly mine, relinquish that right. Just as a bullied child cheers her dad for going and dealing with the bully for her, let me be your hero. Let me take care of this. Yield it to me. Trust me. Let me love you. In our relationship, the right is not yours. It is mine. And that is also love.

It’s not a matter of “forgive and forget”. It’s not a matter of forgiving at all. However, vengeance is not mine. I can speak out, I can defend myself and others, I can help others to understand. These things are right. But carrying what has happened, keeping it in the front of my mind, seeking vengeance, these are not what’s best for me. And so he asks me and others to do the impossible, to run to him after we’ve been hurt by people who’ve used his name wrongly, to see past what they said about him and trust.

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