Broken and Scary

 

Alexis informed me, after I'd mentioned calling one of her friends to ask a favor, that I'm "that scary lady that talks about Jesus all the time." 

"No, mom, I'll ask," she assured me.

I guess there are worse things you could be called by a seventeen year old girl. I guess I've lived so many years as the "scary lady that talks about Jesus all the time" that I find it odd when people don't talk about Jesus all the time. She didn't mean anything bad by it, it's just that she wanted that friend to grant us the favor, too, and thought he might not be so scared off by her.

A strange thing happens when your kids' friends turn into teenagers, they do get scared off by parents, and in all honesty, I get scared off by teenagers.

I was asked to help lead a small group of young ladies for a youth event this past school year. They also thought I was the "scary lady that talked about Jesus all the time." Nearly every Wednesday evening around 7:45p.m. found our little group sitting on the floor, me silently praying to be cool enough and have the right words to say so that they would hear me. Them trying to be too cool to pretend that they were listening, all the while with their eyes glued to me and this strange message of eternity, sin and a Savior. Given the fact that we actually confronted the concept that people really do die, like sons and grandmas, it made for some amazing conversations.

I wake up daily begging God to use me. If I'm going to be here anyway I'd rather be a vessel for glory versus indulging in the temporary glittering rewards that are offered in this world. Brokenness must be a part of that journey because that's where God has me most of the time. Broken and scary, quite a combination. But broken and scary for Jesus - the perfect combination.