Someone has been murdered. We all know who did it, but no one has stood up and truly accepted the blame. Funny enough... no one is pointing fingers either. So we all sit around tables... talking and laughing and hugging and eating roasted chicken and pink cake... with yummers pink icing.
And inside most of us are struggling somehow, but we are happy to be in the same room eating dinner with people like us... with people that know the truth... with people that love us and encourage us... but the real truth doesn't change.
Someone has still been murdered. And we lived to tell about it. And we didn't deserve it. If Angela Lansbury had been there or maybe even Professor Plum, there may have been some closure. To some there IS closure...
the unspoken is many times the most harsh reality.
And then it happened... our leader emerged. He called us all around and I was, quite honestly, a little nervous. Would they look at me? Would they think I was the one with the candlestick in the ballroom? And I began to look around and notice all heads were slightly lowered. All eyes were searching.
And our leader reminded us that we all are guilty. And I realized that this wasn't a mystery at all. Or at least HOW the man died wasn't a mystery. And I was there to tell the story. I was there to remember. I was there to embrace the death and not let things go unspoken. But why me?
For it is by grace that I was there in that room that night.
It is by grace that no one threw the first stone at that dinner.
It is by grace that I can walk with my head held high... all while understanding the mystery of the murder. For the murder wasn't the end of the story. And the murder wasn't the reason we were all gathered... although it played a large part.
It was by grace that Paul was shown mercy, so that the Kingdom could be glorified.
And it was by grace that I was chosen to lead, when I wasn't deserving of a leadership role.
BBs, the scene I described wasn't from a movie or a board game. It was real life. It was a leadership dinner... for our church. Haven't you felt that way before though? As if you didn't deserve to be somewhere? Maybe it wasn't as dramatic as that... but you felt less than?
As I looked around, I saw a band of gypsies. I saw a group of men and women that are wandering around in this world that is not our own. I saw a broken mess of people sitting at tables.
Imperfect.
Undeserving.
A group of misfits... called for leadership.
And isn't that what God does?
He picks the lowly.
He picks the broken.
He picks the murderers...
to lead.
And I wonder how can it be? And I started to understand that when someone is broken to the point of collapse... when someone is constantly stuck in the trenches... when I can. not. go on...
The beautifully broken do one thing.
We look up. It's the only place to look when you've fallen down so much.
We fix our eyes as we run... in the mud and muck... on the one true King.
We come boldly on our hands and knees to the throne of the Living God.
We only have one direction... Up.
And in turn, we have no other choice but to lead.
We have no other choice but to reap a harvest.
We have no other choice but to serve... for we are already on our hands and knees.
So why... you that are beautifully broken and on your knees... do you feel less than?
