I was reminded recently of a conversation that I had with a friend in first grade.

Yes, first grade.

Probably now 22 years ago.

I don’t remember what we were doing at the time that inspired this comment,but my friend turned to me in frustration and told me something along the lines of,

“You should never be a teacher. You would not be good at it.”

She said it so emphatically that I remember it hurt. And I think somewhere deep down, it still stings a little bit.

The funny thing is that I don’t remember ever really aspiring to be a teacher. I was not one of those kids that knew by the age of 7 what I wanted (or thought I wanted) to be when I grew up. In fact, I think I’ve always been a rather indecisive person.

That’s one reason I love that the Word of God offers so many promises and reassurances that God will direct our paths, and why my life verse is Proverbs 3:5-6:

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding (or ability to make decisions); in all your ways, acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths.”

Anyways – back to the story. Even though it wasn’t that this friend of mine was directly attacking this dream I had, it still hurt.

I could analyze it and maybe come to some conclusion that that is why I never pursued being a teacher. Who knows the truth of it. But regardless, I still trust in the fact that God began to direct my paths when I gave my life to Him at age 8, and as I’ve imperfectly followed after Him since, I believe He has had control over the direction of my life.

The point I’m getting at is that it stuck with me. These few words of discouragement. Words spoken in ignorance from someone that had no idea of the impact they would have, or the calling that God has on my life. I mean, we were just kids. 7 year olds.

But when do we grow up? When do we start to recognize the potency of words -the ability they can possess to empower and build up, or tear down and destroy?

One thing I did discover later is that I do love to ‘teach’.

Not in the traditional, classroom setting kind of way, which may be why I don’t even really connect it with that word very often.

What I love to do is share what I’m learning with others. In fact, that is what I feel God has told me to do – “Share with them what I’ve showing you. Encourage others the ways that you’ve been encouraged by Me.”

I may not be very good at it. But that’s not the point.

The point is that I believe it’s all about doing what God has put before you to do – what He has given you a passion to do. And then He does it VERY WELL through you.

It may not look like the way you’d picture it.

The most powerful lessons God has taught me were not in the confines of a classroom, and that’s not usually where I tend to pass them along to others either.

I’ve found that it usually looks like a conversation over coffee with a friend, an impromptu meeting in passing, etc.

So, regardless of the accuracy of another’s assessments of your abilities and potential, the Truth is that as we seek after the Lord and allow Him to be Lord of our lives, He gives us the desires of our hearts (Proverbs 37:4). And those desires become our biggest strengths because they are indications of what He wants to do in and through your life.

And that is powerful. That is something that knocks down walls of criticism that have been erected in ignorance.

Have you had any similar experiences?

I’m currently reading and participating in an online study on “One Thousand Gifts” by Ann Voskamp. As I was posting this week’s discussion questions, I had a thought that I wanted to share, and would love to hear your thoughts on the subject!

The thought was spurred off the following quote from Chapter 9 of OTG:

“Instead of filling with expectations, the joy-filled expect nothing.”

I was thinking about this concept in conjunction with what I’ve heard taught before about ‘waiting in expectation’ on the Lord. And how again, it’s these subtle things that trip us up.

It’s like a little bit of unlevel ground beneath our feet that is so slight that as we’re walking, not really intentional about our footing, can throw us flat on our faces.

The difference is that we don’t wait in expectation of ‘how’ God is going to move – we wait in expectation for Him, period.

But how often do I pray, and then ‘wait in expectation’ that He’s going to answer my prayer in the way that I want it or think it should be done. I fill myself with all these thoughts and scenarios, and like Ann states, there’s not room for joy because I’m distracted by my sense of control, like I’m dictating to God how it should be.

(Of course, that is rarely if ever my intent or conscious thought. But again….it’s the unlevel ground that we step on when we’re not intentional to make sure our foundation is on the Truth of God’s Word and His Promises.)

I would love to hear your thoughts on what you feel “waiting in expectation” on the Lord means, and how that plays out in your life.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve had a rough time here lately emotionally. I’ve had some relational conflict stuff going on & I don’t think anything gets to me more than having unresolved conflict in my life. However, one thing that I’ve been reminded of lately is

the blessing of brokenness.

What I’m referring to is the sensitivity that comes when you’re hurting and choose not to be consumed any longer with self-pity. I’m not saying that it’s not valid sometimes, when offenses are made against you, to be hurt and maybe even have the ‘right’ to be upset. I just think, as believers, that we’re called to release those offenses, and by doing so, we give God access to minister to those broken places.

And it’s there that He can turn our self-pity into compassion for others – because we can relate to their hurting. Our eyes start to open to others around us that are struggling with the same hurts, and like anyone that has been touched by Jesus, our disease begins to heal, one of mine being blindness. We recognize today what we missed yesterday in our comfortable seclusion, that this world is filled with broken, hurting, lonely people.

I can only speak for myself, but maybe you can relate to my tendency towards oblivion. It’s so easy to get caught up in my own little world, even in ministry, and forget that there are people around me that need someone to ask how they are doing – and really mean it. Someone that will ask the question and stand there long enough to get the real response out of them.

It’s really not until I need that done for me that I am aware that I can offer that to others. And that it’s SO needed.

So, that’s what I mean by the blessing of brokenness. When I’m broken, I tend to be more sensitive to the Holy Spirit in ways that I’m not when things are ‘good’ in my little world. I know that Jesus hurts when I hurt, and I think in the same way, He allows me to hurt with Him for others around me as well – in a very small, minute way, sharing in His suffering (Philippians 3:10).

In times like this, I think about how often I crave comfort and avoid pain, a master at self-protection at times. But I don’t realize that the more I avoid some things, the more I desensitize myself to what God would have me open my eyes and heart to, things He’s always had His heart and eyes on. What if the very things that I go out of my way to avoid are the same things God intends to use in my life for His purposes, His glory, His renown?

What if the pain has purpose?

What if the brokenness is always a blessing?