Order Disorder Reorder Part 3: ReorderSample

Bring It All

Scripture is always encouraging us to never count out the underdog. God seems to have a soft spot for the little guys and outsiders. In fact, the more unlikely a character seems, well… keep your eye on that one. While the world is looking for the next GOAT, God is off in some obscure corner of the world looking for the losers and the left behind to bring his kingdom to and through.

Gideon. Rahab. David. Jonah. Even Jesus, the son of God himself, shows up with nothing “beautiful or majestic about his appearance, nothing to attract us to him.” (Isaiah 53:2)

Paul mic drops it when he tells us that his strength is in his weakness (2 Cor 12:10) and that God chooses the foolish and weak things of the world to “confound the wise.” (1 Cor 1:27)

We love these stories, but we subconsciously resist them, too. Our preference for strength and impressiveness shows up when we interpret the spirit of these scriptures as saying something like, “God uses us in spite of our limitations and weakness.”

But that’s not exactly right, is it? It seems that God chooses the people he does precisely for their underdog appeal, which suggests that God uses us not in spite of but actually because of our limitations and weakness.

As a kid with a stutter, it was complicated when I began to sense God’s calling on my life. How could I, with a speech impediment, be a spokesperson for God?

There was a season I believed God’s plan was for me to step out in faith to do this thing I felt unqualified to do. He would reward my faith by healing me, and then that would be my testimony—"trust God and you will be healed!” Clearly this had to be God’s plan, right?

Thus began several years of trying to muster up enough faith to get God to heal me. When it wasn’t happening, my church told me it was because I wasn’t believing hard enough or I had sin in my life. So, I kept trying—harder and harder—until eventually I got too tired to stay on the shame/try harder treadmill of low-level religion.

I remember the night all that changed. I was playing a show at my local coffee shop  and stuttered horribly through the whole set—just one more failed attempt to get the healing I believed could be mine if I could just get my act together. 

When I finished my last song, I felt ashamed for how awkward my stuttering must have made everyone feel and I just wanted to hide. But people lined up to talk with me all the same. I remember feeling embarrassed to look them in the eye. My face felt hot.

But one after another I heard variations of the same story: “Thank you for standing up there and reminding me that we’re not defined by our limitations.” Or, “Jason, thanks for what you did tonight. I believe God has called me to do something, too, and I’ve been telling him he has the wrong person for the job. But if you can do what you do, maybe I can do my thing, too.”

On my drive home that night, a new hope was born in my heart: “Maybe God didn’t intend to heal me of my speech impediment, but instead wanted to bring healing to others through it.”

I began to see how what I thought were weak and useless parts of myself might actually be what God was looking for all along.

This is true of other things I’m tempted to put in the “worthless” category, like the fact that I’m an insecure people pleaser—something I’ve beat myself up about for most of my life.

But just like my speech impediment, I find an unexpected gift in it when I offer it to God.

As a performer who stands before a crowd, the gift of being an insecure people pleaser is that I really, really want people to like me. That insecurity tunes me into the room—aware of the slightest indicators that I’m losing people’s attention. That anxiety is a powerful tool that helps me know when to adjust what I’m doing. I can switch up the songs, throw in a joke, or do whatever it takes to draw the audience back in.

This makes me better at my job! If I were more “whole” I wouldn’t care what others think and would just do whatever I wanted. You might say I have just enough insecurity and people pleasing in me to be effective at what God has given me to do.

It’s obvious that it’s good to offer our strengths to God, but what if we did the same with our "weaknesses"--bringing them to the Lord with curiosity and an open heart?  We might discover that they are a crucial piece of the puzzle of who God has made us to be to do what he’s given us to do. 

Revelation 12:10 says that Satan accuses us day and night, and we can often be his accomplice as we beat ourselves up over all the things we don’t like about ourselves. But when we see our imperfections as part of the bigger picture of how God is making us his handiwork, we can be done with all that and give ourselves more fully to the good work that “God prepared in advance for us to do” trusting that we are his craftsmanship, finely tuned for the work entrusted to us.  (Eph 2:10)