The Day I Discovered I’m Not Necessary

I admit I was tired. Our summer had ended suddenly, the last mission team had left our site, and I found myself grappling with the feeling like the one I get when I’m thrown into deep water.  (I’m not a swimmer.)  All summer, my only consciousness was the busyness of ministry, and with the steady stream of “Jesus-work” waning into a month of rest and sabbatical, I was genuinely surprised to feel . . . exposed.

A few days later I had the opportunity to visit friends at another ministry site in Mexico.  This darling couple loves people so very well.  They invited me to their home for a few days of sabbatical, and I spent my first full day there in the living room while they were at work.  Coffee in hand, I sat down with my Bible, journal, and Nothing to Prove by Jennie Allen, a book generously lent to me by a sweet woman I get to do life with in Monterrey.

Within five minutes (of what would be over five hours) alone with my Jesus, something in me crumbled.  I was overcome by the great sense that I was not enough.  I’d gotten so lost in the busyness of ministry that I felt a sort of whiplash when the crazy pace suddenly slowed.  I sincerely wondered, What is my worth to God apart from how useful I am?  (For those of you who like the Enneagram – that’s me, I’m a 2.)

To me, even asking myself this question felt like a personal failure, because I knew better.

I faced myself, vividly aware of the sense of shame.  But why?  Because I found that the serving and the sleepless nights and the busyness and the Kingdom movement didn’t satisfy me, that my heart had fallen into old patterns of searching for worth and seeking to please my Father out of a sense that I was “not-enough” for Him.

One of the missionary’s greatest struggles is remembering to separate her value to God apart from the ministry she does on the mission field.

(Actually, scratch that.  Any person in ministry can struggle with this.  If you are in ministry and you do, you know what I mean.)

But in that space where I sat alone in my friends’ living room, palm fronds chafing in the breeze outside the window, alone and unmasked before Jesus, I sat in wonder as He came and met me there.

And you know what impression He left with me as I prayed and read Jennie’s book?

“I don’t need you, Jordan.  I love you.” 
“I will accomplish My work to set My people free, and I have a million different ways I allow My kids to be part of that forever-story.”

If you asked me what my top fears are, I would definitely mention “stepping out of God’s ‘best’ will.”  Ever since my radical decision in 2013 to follow the will of God no matter the cost, I’ve settled into cycles of clinging to whatever revelation or “glimpse” of His will He reveals to me, refusing to even consider taking steps that could lead me in any other direction except that of the glimmer I had seen.  This would lead to a choking of sorts, a desperation to hold tight to the slightest glimpse of His will, whatever I perceived to be His “best.”

And all the while, He’s been here, writing a far more colorful array of storylines than my tunnel-vision mind would consider. 

He is not usually a God who takes us directly from Point A to Point B.
He is the God of Point A to D to W to F to J to M to L.
Point B will come eventually, but along the way He will have taken us along an unexpected journey of learning, loving, and healing, and Point B may look completely different in the end than we thought it would.

For several years I’ve been thinking that one “incorrect” career choice, travel plan, or relationship decision could irrevocably collapse – not God’s general will overall, but – God’s “best” will for my life.  I was focusing so much energy on straining my spiritual eyes to catch a glimpse of His “best” will and to keep it in my sights so I would never, NEVER, make a decision, take a step, or say a word that threatened that vision.

Oh, for someone whose life has been marked by the deepest grace, how quickly I’d forgotten what it looks like, and from Whom that lovely Grace comes.

Sweet girl, you strive so much; you thought you could ruin My story for you?
Don’t you believe I am a good Author who understands where I am guiding your feet and your heart right now?
Do you believe that I can write My story without your help?
Do you believe Me that if I put new dreams and desires in your heart, I can weave them into our journey to add layers of beauty and Kingdom glory?
You think you can ruin this story, and that’s why you are afraid to make decisions, but darling girl, you are swimming in an ocean of Grace far deeper and wider than you know.
I’m just getting started with our story, and we have Forever waiting beyond this page.
You can trust your Daddy; I will not let your feet stumble.
Stay close to Me; hold My hand.
I love you, and I won’t leave your side, wherever in this world we go.

I was speechless.  My heart exploded with joy.  I laughed aloud with relief and freedom, and I grabbed my phone to text this revelation to one of my best friends, who of course rejoiced with me.

My Daddy is so patient with me.  He doesn’t really need me to fulfill His purpose.  He loves me, and He chooses to include me in these lines He’s writing.  The fact that I am on the mission field for this season is a result of His graciously inviting me to step out into a more rarely-traveled route of ministry, and my availability and willingness to take the route.
Maybe my life will continue to unfold the way I think it could, and maybe it will unfold differently.  It’s up to God, not me. I don’t need to try to make God’s will happen, and for me, that is incredibly freeing.

I’m learning that God is far more creative than I give Him credit for.  He can love and call others into the Kingdom through His kids, wherever in the world they are, wherever in the world He puts them.  As one of His kids, I don’t have to obsess over being true to a “vision” to make sure I’m staying in His will. Being in His will will never look like angst. I only need to stay true to the heart of my Father, who is ever near, right here with me, and He will gently, joyfully draw me in the way I should go.

Let’s turn the page, Jesus.  My hand in Yours; I’m ready.