Picture a bunch of planter pots. Some broken and jagged, some perfectly shaped and whole. You place a light in each pot. The light in the perfect pot with no cracks stays in there. It shines only for the pot itself. The light is trapped, unable to be used to see or shine in the way it was made to. You shift your gaze to the broken pot. The light shimmers through each hole, each crack is a window for the light to peak through. It shines not only for the jagged pot, but for each and every pot that surrounds it.
The world is a funny place. How dare we be that broken pot. The thought of anyone knowing we’re not perfect, happy and whole each hour of every day makes us shrink in fear. Yet, what if our mess and our jagged edges is the very thing that unites us and allows us to shine in the way we were created to?
This week I got very sick. What was a little bit of fatigue turned into lots of tears, nights of pain, and deep physical and emotional exhaustion. It was not cute. It was not fun. It was not a cool “world race moment” I wanted anyone to see. I was seen by many people “at my worst,” if you will.
Monday was hard. It was an extremely rainy day here in Gainesville. As I stepped out of my tent, so fatigued and tired, I prayed that the Lord would just please help me get through this day. During session, there was an absolute downpour. At 1 pm, I headed to my tent to finally go back to sleep. As I approached my tent, I saw one thing and one thing only: I left my rainfly open (aka, all of my belongings were completely out in the open during the downpour of rain that morning, resulting in my tent flooding). Realizing this, I broke. Before I knew it my sweet friend Adelyn was holding me in a tight hug, speaking truth into me that it was all going to be okay. Next I had girls coming to me hugging me and loving on me, and many of my people left and right grabbing my things to take them to a dry space. At one of my messiest, most vulnerable moments, what was immediately offered to me was love.
When the adrenaline wore off, due to the stress and emotions I went through, my body was immediately exhausted and a lot more sick. Since then, I have been walking through some deep waters physically, mentally, and spiritually.
And once again, Jesus turned my messiest, yuckiest moments into moments of beauty, renewal, and hope.
I learned that the need for rest is never a weakness. That the Lord is my sweet and gentle teacher. Teaching me time and time again. Reminding me what was and what will be again. In my pain He reminds me that I was created to do hard things. He is my helper even when I might not feel helped. He is my protecter even when I might not fully feel safe. He is my comforter even when all I feel is discomfort. May my feelings never be the reason I forget who He is. Being so sick reminded me how unreliable my flesh is. How often I take for granted healthy and whole days. He is the ONLY thing that could turn such a cold, lonely, uncomfortable situation into a series of moments of dependence, and life lessons I will forever hold onto.
Thank you Jesus for giving me hope. For showing me what redemption looks like. For instilling in me a joy that I never thought I would have.
When my physical health declines, my spiritual health can be all the more strengthened. And the healthiest believers are the most dependent on God. In the dry lands of my life may I long for Him all the more (Psalm 63).
In order for me to be dependent, I have to get messy. So often we are broken so that our pieces can be put back together in a new and beautiful way. Then the light inside of us can shine in the way it was created to. It’s a humbling thing. It’s a hard process. But new wine cannot be poured into old wineskins (Matthew 4). If we want to grow into fullness we have to be willing to get messy and broken first, and sometimes even welcome some of our people into our mess.
As Monday night came to a close, I brain dumped to my TL Kenzi about anything and everything that was on my mind. I cried hard, and she held my hands, reminded me of so much truth, and prayed over me. Once again in my messy moment, I was offered nothing but love. Later she came into the room where everything I own was drying out in a mess on the floor. We chatted about my newfound realization that stuff is just stuff, and there’s so much more to life then the things I own. We looked around at what survived my flooded tent and what didn’t make it. As she went to leave, she turned back to me and said,
“Well, night MG, thank you for welcoming me into your mess :)”
No pain endured for the name of Jesus is pointless or a waste of time. Sometimes it takes a certain kind of breaking to be put back together. So friend, I challenge you, be the broken pot. The restoration, renewal, and refining that occurs is like no other.
Bye for now,
MG 🙂
