A grungy Christian

"She was the kind of girl who wore white cashmere cardigans and frosted pink nail polish..." 

It was my junior year in high school. We were on choir tour, on our way to Houston, Texas, by way of churches in Mississippi and Louisiana. We spent a lot of time on a bus. Tons. It was worth it. It was the first time , and only, so far, I got to visit New Orleans. I think it was the last time I've been west of Alabama, actually. *sigh* 

Being the book worm I am, my best friend and I spent most of that time on the bus reading. I'll never forget something my friend read aloud to me- Something so small and seemingly insignificant at the time. I don't recall the book even. But it stuck in my head... After she read the above sentence to me, she literally exclaimed with pride, "Amy, that's us!" Ha. It was, too. I was firmly in the midst of my run as a "good girl."

And that run would last a bit longer. But not much.

Where did I go wrong? That's another post for another time. Where I am today is learning how to live with those bad choices and see how they fit into my walk with Christ now.

See, here's the thing. I made some bad decisions. Like 7 year's worth. I normally just call it the "decade of debauchery" because that feels right. It was a time where I hedonistically lived how I wanted to. It wasn't pretty.

Since I've come home to my Father's open embrace, so much like that prodigal son, I've wrestled with where to shelve that decade. In the "live and learn" section of life? In the "eternal regret" section? Or in the "ministry opportunities" section? Much like a favorite book, I take the book of the shelf, from one section, hold it, flip through it and then shelve it in a different section.

It can be exhausting. 

I had a conversation about all this with a preacher friend, and his response was, "Grace is a fix all." 

That was it. It made me kind of mad. I spend 7 years out of the will of God and you want to repair it with "Grace is a fix all?"

Huh. And no. I mean, kind of. But not really. It's not that easy for me. Right or wrong.

I promised God that I wouldn't apologize for those years any more. I didn't want to cheapen the forgiveness found there. But I'm still remorseful. I still hate it. I still wish I could have stayed "good" - You know, gone to a Christian college, married my first boyfriend without having ever kissed him, had a baby straight away, all the while serving in the church nursery. 

Or something like that.

But here is where I ended up yesterday, in the solitude of my van with the "Eclipse" soundtrack blaring:

Was it in God's plan for me to fail miserably for a decade? Nope. Is He going to use it now? Yep. In a huge way. 

I was on the way to the doctor, for strep. The illustrious strep that has chased my family in circles for a month now. So I was on the way to the doctor, and what I really wanted was a doctor who knew what strep was, how bad it feels and how to make it better. A doctor that had experienced strep, so he'd feel the urgency to heal it. 

Not a doctor who had never had it and but had read about it and knew how to heal it.

Small difference, but huge.

Maybe that's a bad analogy, but it's all I could come up with in my sickly haze. 

So here it is. As the view of God's plan for ministry for me starts to barely come into focus around the edges, I see a bit of where this is going to fit in.

I don't have the power to heal, obviously, but I can point to the One who does heal. Because He healed me.

more tomorrow...