“I’m mad at God.”
It felt right and true as the words came out, even though I had had no such thought just moments prior.
I was huddled on my comfy couch with 3 women, one of whom I had met a mere hour earlier, to watch the live stream of IF: Gathering. Months before, when the leaders opened up registration and threw out the fee, 1200 women signed up in 42 minutes. The 4 of us were joining 25,000 others from around the world watching in living rooms, church halls, and cafes thanks to a decision to stream it live.
The sheer number of women gathered around a vague “conference” indicates the desire which exists in our generation for something different, authentic and raw. And from the get go, when each and every woman involved in the planning, speaking, and creating of the weekend came to the mic and prayed, authenticity abounded.
This was the atmosphere shaping the discussion time in which I took a question card that read, “What is in between you and peace with God?” I thought I was going to say boredom. It felt safer. But I didn’t. And even as I was speaking words almost too raw for my own soul to bear, I felt exposed and real and hopeful all at once.
I had been harboring a low simmering anger with Jesus.
IF: Gathering asked one simple question, IF God is real, then what? And I had already given my life to the expression of that answer. IF he is real, then I’ll move to Turkey to share him with Muslims. IF he is real, then I’ll open my home to a youth in need. IF he is real, then I’ll start a ministry and write a book and go to strip clubs and fight sex trafficking and speak and write and live and breathe it all. Because IF he is real, then this burning passion is from him. I’ve found that which I was created to do.
But IF he is real and IF I’m charting the right course, shouldn’t it be easier? One disciple in Turkey would have made it feel worth it or a young person who didn’t flee our home at the first bout of shame. A ministry that doesn’t leave us broke and exhausted, a book that sells, exotic dancers who are open to relationship, recovered victims who want to leave the sex industry, a speaking engagement that pays more than a Starbucks card…
Why is it so hard? IF you’re real and IF you’ve called me to this, why is it all so hard?
How many of us equate ministry, calling or passion with comfort, ease, or delight? We know in our head that these are not equal, but our heart rebels. We live as if God owes us something, which leads to ingratitude and entitlement. Eventually, it leads to anger.
Jen Hatmaker, closing IF, shared the meaning of the eucharist, “do this in remembrance of me.” She explained it to mean “constantly make this real.” As in, constantly break our body as he did his. As in, the ministry of mercy is costly. As in, stop expecting it all to be easy and just “do this in remembrance of me.”
And you know when you feel simultaneously spanked and jolted to a new reality? Yes.
Breaking our body, be it through writing, speaking, serving, loving, or crying on behalf of the Body in communion with Jesus is costly. It’s tiring. It’s not lucrative. It’s not comfortable. It’s not always fun and not always fulfilling.
In fact, it sounds an awful lot like Paul who served God “in great endurance; in troubles, hardships, distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger… sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything” (NIV, 2 Cor. 6: 5, 10).
IF he is real, then we are called to “constantly make this real.” IF he has really invited us to follow him and IF we truly believe “we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do” (NIV, Eph 2:10), then the privilege is ours.
Would I take up the pen, the camera, the microphone, the hurting hearts! May I stop pouting and start rejoicing that Jesus invited me to “open wide my heart” like Paul, like himself.