Pain and Purpose...

I was about to walk on stage to teach for the 4th and final time at a recent women’s retreat.  My mother-in-law had been staying with our kids at home while we were away, and texted me that she and the kids were pretty tired from the weekend, so they wouldn’t be attending church that morning.  Instead, she said they would enjoy a cozy Sunday morning home in their PJ’s, and she would let the Littles lead a little church service in our family room. I thought it sounded perfect and precious and didn’t give it much thought until I got some pictures of their time.  

For some reason, apparently right before the start of their “church service,” Morgan and Reese went into our garage and happened upon Jon’s old walker.  And they brought it inside to use as a platform and a podium for their teaching and worship leading. The sight of this photo took my breath away.

That walker.  The dreaded walker.  I remember Jon discovering he would need to re-learn how to walk after his brain tumor surgery.  Oh the hospital halls he slowly shuffled down, using that walker. The therapy he received. Oh how he dreaded using that thing in public.  So much so, that our dear friend Jessica Norwood took it to her house and painted it black for him, in an attempt to make Jon feel more “cool” using it.  Funny, but it actually helped. This walker was a symbol of pain. Of loss.

And here my daughter was, using it as a platform to lead worship from, while playing her miniature American Girl Doll guitar.  She then used it to prop up her Bible to preach to gospel. Friends, this walker was a symbol to Jon of all that had changed and all he had lost with his brain tumor - including his ability to lead worship with his guitar.  The irony of Morgan standing on it, and it becoming her platform to play guitar and worship is not lost on me.  

Except it wasn’t ironic at all.  It was prophetic. You see, at this conference, Jon stood on stage next to me, and in the most honest, authentic way, told his story of suffering and loss - and then used his story to put Jesus on display.  He used his pain to prop up the Bible. He used his loss as a platform. This picture of Morgan was an exact picture of what God was doing in that same moment, through Jon.

Now I know I’m getting mushy about a silly family “church service” with a random prop, but friends, this is real life with Jesus.  This is how God works! This is so often how He moves. He takes what has been a source of pain and loss and says, “Here, stand on this.”  And all of a sudden, the pain is being redeemed and the loss is being purposed and the faith of a child is taking her mom’s breath away.  

My friend, your pain is not just your pain.  I can promise you that. Your pain, in the hands of your Creator, can bring strength and perseverance and character and HOPE.  It can bring life and purpose and renewal. The story of your pain is still being written! God delights in using your story - ALL OF IT - for His glory.  Are you willing? May I ask, What is your walker? What is a symbol of pain in your life? Identify it, surrender it, and then get ready. The next thing you know, your child might be standing confidently on it - symbolizing how God has crushed the power of it under His foot! The redemption of it can have generational impact, as evidenced on a cozy Sunday morning in your family room, with childlike faith telling stories of David and Goliath, and an audience of a grandma, a couple of siblings, and a few American Girl Dolls.  And you’ll realize there couldn’t be a more beautiful picture in all the world.