And my wounds will be made whole

When people find out I’m a ministry major, they are often confused. I’m been hurt very badly by the church, so why would I want to work in any sort of ministry setting? I’m very cynical and downright callous toward the church at times, why the heck do I want to spend my LIFE working in it?

I guess on the surface, it doesn’t make sense. Why would it? I have been hurt badly by the church. I went to a church for help for many things, several times. I went to the the church for help when I was suicidal  I was pushed aside, treated as a burden. I went for help from my abusive father, and I was pushed aside. I went for help to press charges against my father, and was given illegal advice not to.

I have every reason to hate the church. I have every reason that I should be against Christianity. I have been let down by the church again and again. I’m reminded that I was never good enough. I was never one of the “cool kids”. I was always a burden, always needing something. Always the girl with health problems, always the one who needed a ride, always the one from a broken home. Never the one who had her act together. Never the one who could offer anything. I had a decent enough voice, but other kids could sing better. I could act, but others could act better.

Senior year, when my entire life fell apart, the place that stood by my side to be my solid rock? My public high school. Not my church. They sided with my father, whereas my school took strides to keep me safe. My high school teachers took care of me, when my church could not.

But, I’m reminded of the Casting Crowns song from several years ago:

But if we are the bodyWhy aren’t His arms reaching?Why aren’t His hands healing?Why aren’t His words teaching?And if we are the bodyWhy aren’t His feet going?Why is His love not showing them there is a way?There is a way

Jesus paid much too high a priceFor us to pick and choose who should comeAnd we are the body of Christ

Jesus does NOT want us picking and choosing who comes and who stays. Jesus does NOT want the ones who need help the most, turned away by the church. And I know I’m just one person…

(obligatory Muppet link! Oh, come on. It’s me. You had to be expecting it!),

but maybe I can be the one person who can make a difference in that child’s life.

I have a passion for special needs ministry. I have a passion for the ones often overlooked. It is BECAUSE I have been hurt by the church and by so-called ministries like the church and IHOP that I want to go in the ministry. I know most people hurt by the church want to run from it with their head between their legs. It doesn’t mean I’ve been hurt more, it doesn’t mean they’ve been hurt more. It doesn’t mean I’ve been hurt less, it doesn’t mean they’ve been hurt less. There is no equating wounds when it comes to this sort of things – it does no good. We’ve all been hurt. I’m reminded of a song that I sang on my ninth grade mission trip to Miami: “I am a wounded soldier, but I will not leave the fight, because the great physician is healing me. So I’m standing in the battle, in the armour of His light because His mighty power is real in me. I am loved, I am accepted, by the Saviour of my soul. I am loved, I am accepted, and my wounds will be made whole.”

One church did not accept me. Certain ministries have not accepted me. SO FRICK FRACKING WHAT?  God loves the outcasts, too…

(Oh, come on. I already posted Muppets. Hunchback should not surprise you on a serious blog entry by now from me!)

You know what? The outcasts need a place, too. I want to help the outcasts, because I was once an outcast, too. I still am, I suppose. But just because I was outcast by ministries, just because I wasn’t good enough for them, doesn’t mean I don’t want anything to do with them.

In fact, it’s what channeled my passion. It’s what made me want to do them. To step up to the plate for the children who had youth pastors who were just there for the cool kids, and ran away when times became difficult for the children. To step up for the children who fell for the wayside, while the youth pastor’s wife pleaded with them. To step up for the children who fell through the cracks, because the youth pastor just didn’t want to devote the time with them. To be there for the ones with special needs, whatever those special needs may be.

It’s going to be a wild ride, one that I feel will bring me a lot of healing, but it’s my wild ride and my journey. And I’m prepared to take it.

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