There are moments in my job when I not only feel, but also know God is working in my heart through the work He’s doing in the lives of those around me.
In many ways I am like, very much like, one of my favorite Jane Austen heroines: Elinor Dashwood (Sense & Sensibility). Yes, our first names are similar, but that is not where the similarity is found. I would never claim to be as wise as Elinor, but like her, I don’t enjoy, thrive in, or find comfort in showing emotion, unless it’s positive emotion and isn’t at all personal. I hide many of my emotions, and not because I’m a mental case or in need of some great help, but because in many ways that’s how I’m wired. I can be crazy, I can be sad, I can be excited...but in general it’s nothing very extreme to watch-in public anyway.
Last week I found, for the first time, that grading someone else’s homework can be a very emotional process. For the first time in my life I cried over one small written paragraph. That paragraph will follow me for the rest of my life. It was simple. It wasn’t something huge, but it was something that revealed a much bigger picture. Even now, when I think about it, I choke up. I was given the honor of peeping into the life, heart, mind, and soul of one of the students...and it brought me to my knees before the Lord. What picked me up, and continues to pick me up when I think about this, is hope. Why? Because in Jesus there’s always hope.
There are a couple things I could say about this experience and why it’s significant. One of them is that I firmly believe that if I’d read that paragraph a year ago it would not have affected me the way it did last week. I really did “loose it”. And I lost it in a good way. I became unhinged, not for myself or because of something I had done, but for the first time I really and truly became unhinged for someone else, and for something else that had absolutely nothing to do with me. I witnessed true vulnerability, and I glanced into the battle, life, and journey of another person in a way that I never did before.
So as I say all this, the point I want to end on is this: strength is found in Jesus. This world, without Him, is doomed. Those truths sound so simple, so basic, and they’ve been so abused...but they’re true! And I find, more and more every day, that it’s the simple things that reveal the big picture. The normal, every day, monotonous happenings that we take for granted...those are the things that form us, mess with us, reveal our character, and show us our need for a saviour.
What’s more, I found joy, even while crying, in realizing that I am changing, that God is working on me in ways I didn’t even know He was. I stand in awe of the fact that in spite of my idea of who I am, God is still forming me into who He wants me to be. I found comfort in realizing that there are times when it’s perfectly alright to be an Elinor Dashwood and bring it all out in private. Strength is not found in never becoming unhinged, but neither is it found in being unable to keep things together and being a constant mess. Strength is found in bringing things to Jesus and allowing Him to carry them for you, give you wisdom in them, and teach you what you need to know from and about them. And I continue to be amazed at just how much life in community molds you.
So whoever you are, whether a mom, a dad, a wife, a husband, working, single, young, old, able or handicapped...if you’re reading this remember these truths:
Maybe it sounds corny, but you’re on your own journey...you cannot be someone else.
Your journey is a part of another persons journey, so don’t think it’s of more or less value than the person sitting next to you on the bus.
And whatever you do: it all comes back to Jesus. It’s His story we’re proclaiming and living by. It’s His story that all of our lives point to. It’s His story that brings redemption and restoration to our mess. It’s His story that allows us to realize how lost we are. And it’s Him that gives us the chance to learn to love each other the way He loved us.
Without Jesus, I don’t know where I’d be right now. With Jesus, I can wake up knowing I am where I should be.
Without Jesus, “unhinged” becomes the norm. With Jesus, the norm is that even when I am unhinged, I can still stand tall and continue to function. The world does not fall apart.
Without Jesus, there is no hope. With Jesus, the hope never ends and always picks me up.
I am unhinged. Jesus is my hope. He stands firm when I fail.
