Remember the sparklers and how fun it was to whip them in circles as you raced around the yard at dusk?
Remember all the brightly colored ones that you lit up and then they either twirled around on the pavement or made a noise like a siren? Or both.
Or the ones that did that shooty thing straight up in the air? (that is obviously the technical name.)
Or the one that you lit in anticipation and they just sort of spark once or twice and then fizzled out?
That was called a "dud" and we would just shrug and move on to the next smoke bomb or twirly thingy.
A dud for Christ.
I know I'm feeling that way because I said no to a speaking engagement for next week.
Rod and I prayed about it and for a variety of reasons really felt I should say no at this time. But that doesn't stop the voices in my head saying I messed up. Again.
Like God will turn his back on me and never ever use me again.
Do you ever feel like that? Like you messed up so bad that God doesn't even want to look at you?
One of my favorite things in life...no, my favorite thing in this life is being able to share what God has done for me. How he took a girl who was living only for herself, harming herself and others in the process of being so selfish, and let her know that he loves her and has saved her from herself.
My story is not really about me. I am definitely not the hero in my own story. God is and will always be. He saves. He loves. He chases me and finds me...a dud.
So when I get the chance (and I do very often) of sharing my story, I am terrified and thrilled all at the same time. Terrified because I feel very naked and vulnerable while I talk about what I have done. Then thrilled when I get to talk about what Jesus has done...anyway.
I absolutely explode with joy and am just on fire to share how God loves us enough to overlook everything we have done and adopts us in to his family. I so do not deserve that no matter what I do.
"Baby, you're a Firework" by Katy Perry is playing in my head because that is pretty much is how I feel when I have to chance to let broken people know that God loves them and forgives them. Not usually a song when we think of worshiping God.
But it fits here.
The accusing voices in my head need to just shut it.
Zip it, for Pete's sake. Or for mine.
And I'll go on gladly and happily being a dud for Jesus.
One who explodes with joy on a regular basis over the things he has done.