The ministers daughter

My earliest memories are of the church. Nights and mornings - week days and weekends - our life was the church. My grandparents were ministers and we are a ministering family. Often my grandmother would talk about how her father would walk the streets with an accordian calling people to church on a Sunday morning. We are church folk...its in our blood.

And just as we are of the church - we are also broken. I wish that someone had told me thats its possible to be both, instead of feeling like a failure when my brokeness and my faith conflicted with one another. This weekend was a reminder of our families brokeness and our anointedness...

I watched as my mom took to the stage. My mom - who in her old age has grown bitter about the harsh hand life has dealt her...my mom the flirt and rage-o-holic...she stood and opended her mouth and I felt Gods presence in my heart.  She sang and sang and my spirit stilled within me and I was blessed.

There are many who are capable, but there are very few who are called to minister. My mother is one of the called. I sat there and I was reminded that God does not call on us because of who we are...He calls on us, despite of who we are. Broken and imperfect, in Him we are made vessels and testiment to His grace and mercy.

I listened as the ocherstra and choir swelled up in chorus behind her and I thought, how is it that God picked such a woman to bless thousands of people? They don't know her like I know her. They don't know how we suffered at her hand and her sharp tongue when we grew up. They have no idea of the fear her impatience inspired...oh, but now when she sings, its connects you to something other than yourself. How is it that God chose her to bring forth his message to millions? Maybe it was because of her brokeness and her own sexual and physical abuse that has paved the way for her to truly reflect the human heart. We feel ugly and unworthy, but like David a man who fell time and time again - we still can rise up and sing and dance to glory of God...our worship and praise sincere and honest because we have been in the valley of death and have been lost in the darkness - we truly understand the misery of pain and therefore we now understand His comfort and love.

God sees us for more than our mistakes and the terrible things that have been done to us and what we have done to each other. In us He sees His image and we are made perfect by His blood.

It is comforting to know God loves me enough for the both us and even when my brokeness gets in the way, His faith in me never wanes.

I am reminded that its okay to be broken...its only in Christ that I am made whole. My past does not define me - it's part of my testimony. I don't know why certain things have happended in my life - but its okay, because God will always be with me.