Wednesday, September 18, 2013

a scared, fumbling "church planter"

Apparently I'm a church planter now. Or a church planter's wife...but they're kind of the same thing.
You might even call me a pastor's wife at some point soon. Gulp.

When Brian and I first decided to leave Youth With A Mission to plant a church, I was all excited about being a "church planter." The title sounded fun. I felt a little bit important. I thought my 5 years of ministry experience sounded pretty good on paper. I thought I'd grow into the role and begin to ooze wisdom and grace.


My fam 3 days before we moved

This church planter? This ministry wife?
I'm pretty sure that I'm about as weak as they come. I haven't felt so not together in a long time. I'm no parenting expert. I pick fights with my husband when I want his attention. I've never read the Bible cover to cover. I flub my words when I'm under pressure and I'm more prone to worry than to pray when faced with something difficult. Most days its feels like I'm just a TV-watching, call-my-mom-for-help-often, nauseous, scared 25-year-old.

And maybe, this is where God wants me.
I'm beginning to think that this place, where I'm absolutely sure that I need Jesus just to get through the day, is where a church planter needs to start. Where any of us needs to start.
It's where I meet Jesus. It's where He reminds me that I'm doing His work, not mine. It's where He defines me, instead of a job description. It's where I rest in His goodness instead of my own toiling.

This place, it's where I lay all that I cannot do into His hands, and watch as He does more than I could have ever asked or imagined. Through His strength, for His glory, and so that people will know Him.
Though I am so flawed, I get to see His faithfulness. I don't want to leave this place.

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