Tonight the walls crashed in. The questions and doubts and fears and shame all spilled over into an unceasing flow of tears. My body literally shook with each breath as I cried out to the Lord for the only thing I knew to ask for: His presence. I had no lofty speech or special revelations; I was even without any semblance of words to throw at the "something" gnawing on my heart. So I just said, "Come Lord Jesus, I need You." And I felt Him smile a sad knowing smile and invite me to nestle my head into His sweet embrace.
If God had a list of hobbies, one would be answering the prayers that He wants me to ask. There's no question about it- He wants me to know my need for Him.
The tears had subsided and I was holding my teddy bear and sipping on some chamomile tea when I picked up my old copy of "The Ragamuffin Gospel"- it just seemed fitting. This is what I found in the beginning pages:
The Ragamuffin Gospel was written with a specific reading audience in mind.
This book is not for the super-spiritual.
It is not for muscular Christians who have made John Wayne and not Jesus their hero.
It is not for academicians who would imprison Jesus in the ivory tower of exegesis.
It is not for noisy, feel-good folks who manipulate Christianity into a naked appeal to emotion.
It is not for hooded mystics who want magic in their religion.
It is not for Alleluia Christians who live only on the mountaintop and have never visited the valley of desolation.
It is not for the fearless and tearless.
It is not for red-hot zealots who boast with the rich young ruler of the gospels: "All these commandments I have kept from my youth."
It is not for the complacent, hoisting over their shoulder a tote-bag of honors, diplomas and good works actually believing they have it made.
It is not for legalists who would rather surrender control of their souls to rules than run the risk of living in union with Jesus...
The Ragamuffin Gospel was written for the bedraggled, beat-up, and burnt-out.
It is for the sorely burdened who are still shifting the heavy suitcase from one hand to the other.
It is for the wobbly and weak-kneed who know they don’t have it altogether and are too proud to accept the handout of amazing grace.
It is for inconsistent, unsteady disciples whose cheese is falling off their cracker.
It is for poor, weak, sinful men and women with hereditary faults and limited talents.
It is for earthen vessels who shuffle along on feet of clay.
It is for the bent and the bruised who feel that their lives are a grave disappointment to God.
It is for smart people who know they are stupid and honest disciples who admit they are scalawags. The Ragamuffin Gospel is a book I wrote for myself and anyone who has grown weary and discouraged along the Way.
As I read every sentence in the "not for" list, I couldn't help but to breathe sighs of relief- deeper with each new concept. Here, in the pages of this book, I did not have to be "super spiritual" and have all the right words. In fact, the book was not even written for someone who was unafraid and shed no tears. How did Brennan Manning know that I wasn't very good at keeping commandments and that I had no list of honors or achievements to revel in?
Before his warm, steamy bath, a mother patiently peels wet and heavy winter clothes off of her child who has been playing in the snow all day. In the same way, a small but heavy burden was lifted as I read and identified with each description of to whom the book was written. Burdened, unsure, weak, inconsistent, unsteady, sinful, bent, bruised, fearful, and tearful. All of those things describe me right now and even just the knowledge that this book was written for somebody like me brings fresh air to my stale concealed heart.
That first section was as far as I got because it was all that I needed to be reminded that it is okay for me to be human. For some reason being on staff with IV makes me put myself through a harder beating than I would give to anyone else. I feel as if the title "staffworker" should magically make me believe more steadfastly in the promises of the Lord. It should make me able to raise all of the money I need before October 1st, and of course, it should make me know how to deal with the spiritual implications of not raising it all.
But the beautiful news of tonight is that no matter how I am called to lead, I am forever and always just a sheep in need of my Shepherd. I am a child of weakness, a disciple, and a servant before I am ever a leader. I fumble and I fail, I question and I cry. How easily does my fragile heart trade hope for despair and trust for unbelief. But the good news of the Gospel is that I am worse than I think. The glorious part is that because I am more needy, messed up, and sinful than I already know, the Cross of my Salvation is also greater than I could ever imagine. C.S. Lewis writes in his book, The Four Loves,
"Grace substitutes a full, childlike and delighted acceptance of our need, a joy in total dependence. The good man is sorry for the sins which have increased his need. He is not entirely sorry for the fresh need they have produced."
My sin; my inadequacy is great, but greater still is my Savior. Brenden Manning says,
"When I get honest, I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes. I believe and I doubt, I hope and get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I am trusting and suspicious. I am honest and I still play games."
... in a word, I am a Ragamuffin.
