Broken Things

I read a book a long time ago about a beautiful addict. Her troubled past followed her around like a shadow. Her present was defined by how and when she would get her next high. Her future was all but a pre-determined catastrophe. Then one day, she met a gallant man. He instantly loved her. He was drawn to her in spite of her brokenness. As the story unfolded, I became more and more bothered by it. The way the author described this man made it impossible for you not to fall in love with him. He was captivating. Selfless. Kind. Funny. Romantic. He was radiant. But it wasn’t enough for her. She did not value his love. She cheated on him, running back to her supplier. She betrayed him, abandoned him, and only then after she had her fill of drugs and men, would she come crawling back to him, begging his forgiveness, saying she would change, pleading for another chance. And he would always take her back. Every. Single. Time. I was infuriated. Who does this woman think she is? She does not deserve him. She deserves what has happened to her. If I ever had the love of a man like that,I would never hurt him. Towards the end of the book the full weight of the symbolism hit me like a freight train. Spoiler alert: I am that woman. I do hurt the heart of my radiant King. My story is that of a reckless, divine love that chases down an unworthy, unfaithful, and undeserving recipient. The book was also an allegory of the Israelites, who relentlessly turned their backs on God, worshipped other idols, then came crawling back to God when they fell into captivity. God always delivered them. My idol might not be a golden calf, but I am guilty of the same recklessness and infidelity. For a long time, I invested my devotion into something that couldn’t save me.

In 2018 I hit rock bottom. I made a mistake that had the potential to haunt me for the rest of my life: a mistake whose consequences could negate everything I worked so hard to build. In my darkest hour, just like the Israelites, just like the addict, I cried out to God, begging for his forgiveness, begging for another chance. Jeremiah 2:27-28 paints a clear picture of my duplicity: “They have turned their backs to me and not their faces. Where then are the gods you made for yourselves? Let them come if they can save you when you are in trouble.” Laying there in rock bottom, with the enormity of my guilt eating away at my self-worth, I realized the truth: My fancy education could not save me. My career did not come to my rescue. All my connections were worthless. My sin had dug a hole too deep to crawl out of, and “all the gods I had made for myself” couldn’t turn my situation around.

Fortunately, God has a habit of loving broken things. God has a history of choosing broken things and raising them up. Moses was a murderer. David was an adulterer. Esther was an orphan and poor refugee living in captivity. Jonah was a coward who ran from his calling. Gideon was a farmer from one of the weakest tribes of Israel. Peter was a distrustful fisherman. Matthew was a tax collector working for his people’s captors: the Romans.  Paul had hundreds of Christ-followers sentenced to death. Simon was a sorcerer. Mary Magdalene was demon-possessed. And yet God called them. He loved them past their pain. He equipped them to do something they couldn’t do without him. He transformed their broken lives into legacies that had a lasting impact.

Although I would never presume to compare myself to the Biblical “greats” in Christian history, I can relate to their redemption story. What should have been my demise, God turned around for his glory. True to His promise: “What the enemy meant for evil, I have meant for good.” After God pulled me out of rock bottom, He became my center. And in the past 3 years, I have seen him do miracles upon miracles in my life, including the most recent one.            

I’ve always had a fire in my belly: a stirring passion that sets my sights on greater things to come. When God called me to leave D.C. and move to Texas last year to work for the American Red Cross, that fire in my belly began to stir. I had a hunch God had something big in store.  I ended up meeting the man I am going to spend the rest of my life with, which is miracle in itself as, I never thought I would get married. But although my job was fulfilling, there was something missing. A couple months ago, an internal position became available that I was under-qualified for, and yet that fire inside was blazing at the prospect of having a significantly higher leadership role with greater responsibility and greater impact within the organization. With the odds stacked against me, I applied anyway. I was not alone. There were 50 other qualified candidates who applied. Over the course of two months, I had six different interviews with some of the top executives in our division. During interview number six, I learned that it was down to me and one other candidate and they couldn’t decide who to pick. I also learned that this other candidate was supposed to be a shoe-in. He was hand-picked by some of the same executives who were interviewing me. He was a highly seasoned candidate who not only had more experience than me in that role and within the organization, but also came highly recommended by everyone above him.

Knowing all this should have intimidated me and sent me running back to my comfort zone with my tail between my legs. But then I thought of David, not David-who-would-be-king, but shepherd boy David. You would think that the King of Israel would have chosen a seasoned battle-commander, a war-tested general, or at the very least a great warrior to come against the giant of the Philistine army. Choosing a young sheep-herder with no fighting experience whatsoever was NOT the logical choice. However illogical it was to send a sheepherder to battle against a giant, that’s the person God chose to accomplish the task. God was glorified through David and through that victory.

            The days droned on and felt like years, waiting for senior leadership to make the decision. I was in a posture of full surrender to God’s will, knowing that He’s closed doors on me before (*cough cough* FBI *cough*), but also knowing that God is the same yesterday, today and forever, and has a pattern of calling the unqualified. I got the call Thursday, July 8^th at 9:48 in the morning. David was no longer just a shepherd boy, and I was no longer just a Program Manager for 1 county. I was offered the promotion to be over 121 counties across North Texas as the new Regional Volunteer Services Officer, after only being with the organization for 1 year.

            My favorite worship song right now is called Champion by Bethel Music. I feel the whole song perfectly describes my relationship with God, but there’s one line in particular to which I relate the most. “You take the broken things, and raise them to glory.”

If you ever doubt your worth remember…..God is unphased by your brokenness.

Until next time my faithful readers,

Stephanie