Equipping the Called

God doesn't call the equipped; He equips the called.

Let me just follow that up with an Amen! right now. 

As I child, I spent many an hour sitting on those durable little wooden chairs, staring as the weekly Bible story came into being on the flannelgraph of our Sunday school classroom. The teacher --each one, most of whom I no longer recall their names --outside of Sunday mornings, functioned as someone's mother or grandmother, hairstylist, cashier, what-have-you. But on Sundays, they wielded those little paper characters with such finesse and timing. Joseph was never mistaken for Daniel; the elephants from Noah's ark never wandered into the Christmas story. Our teacher --Tuesday's mild-mannered seamstress, or not --had skills! 

Then I think back to my days of teaching Sunday school, planning games and crafts; telling the story of Creation with songs and movement. I worked to engage students; to share with them the wonder of all God can do. I had my own set of skills! And it was rewarding, exciting. And --at least once --occurred at the expense of truth. Such was the former "me". Years ago, as I shared with a group of youngsters the Bible's account of Lazarus, I made a comment meant to add impact to the miracle of Jesus' raising His friend from the dead. I won't waffle; I said what I said. I told that group of young listeners that Lazarus was the only person Jesus raised from the dead, and He did so because He and Lazarus were friends. Perhaps you can see where I was going with this. I wanted to tie the resurrection of every person who has a relationship with Jesus Christ to Jesus' raising of His friend. The truth is, Lazarus was definitely not the only person Jesus raised from the dead during His earthly ministry: there were at least two others. Believe it or not, one of the astute little tikes called me out on it. Did I say, "Y'know what, Junior, you are absolutely right!"? Nope. I doubled down and made a terrible claim that perhaps, the others weren't really dead.

Now, I'm gonna stop right there and tell you just how nauseous it makes me to think those words ever came from my lips; I'm gonna tell you just how vulgar that was. But shame thrives in darkness, so let's just put that to death right now. I later confessed and repented, and I have been forgiven. But in that moment, it was ego. Plain and simple; cut and dried. I was not about to be corrected. Especially by someone who still eats off the kids' menu. So, I perverted the Holy Scriptures, mishandled the little lives with which I'd been entrusted, and defended my own pride. Ick! on so many disgusting, disturbing levels.   

That moment, however, has been a merciful and poignant reminder to me for many years. Merciful because I am forgiven. Merciful because the memory of it returns to me --not to condemn me, but to warn me and keep me faithful to the right handling of Scripture. Recalling the events of that day reminds me of my need for a Savior --no matter how many people I teach or how well-versed I become in Bible doctrine. And the memory of it is poignant; it sickens me. Praise God! 'cause if it sickens me, I have to marvel at just how much it sickened the God I worship. After all, I am still fumbling my way through this life. I am still getting it wrong. I, even by my simple humanity and ignorance, fail Him too often. But that vile feeling in the pit of my stomach when I'm reminded of my pride and the grave offense to which it gave birth, also reminds me of God's holiness, how perfect He is; and it draws me back to the assurance and wonder of His mercy. Only a God strong enough to forgive my sin, to give Himself that my sin might be abolished, only a God like that can even think of reimagining and redeeming my life as a teacher. And He has. 

He has equipped me. He has changed me. He has reshaped me by His mercy, His forgiveness, His word, and His discipline. As uncomfortable as it is to recall my offenses, they are the means by which God has transformed me --and continues to transform me --equipping me for the work He has called me to do. Teach. 

We have all been called to the mission field. Whether it is in our homes or our jobs, or sitting before a group of tiny, wide-eyed future missionaries. Don't worry that you're not equipped. You're not. But God who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ (Philippians 1:6). Soli Deo gloria!