Friday, January 06, 2006

Rainbow Face

Most of the time, when I hear someone talk about their “testimony,” it seems to deal with their salvation. If that were the case here, I wouldn’t have much of a story to tell. I was saved at a young age, having grown up in the church, and to be honest I don’t remember much of the details. But I do know that Jesus is in my heart.
Throughout the years, the relationship I’ve had with Christ and everything He has done in my life has been something worth sharing. The story I’m about to tell you is what I consider my testimony—my story—the story of one instance in which God showed me one of the Simplest yet Greatest Truths there is. It’s a story about a hammer. I had just finished Middle School (with a beginning like that, you know this is going to be an interesting tale). I was young, in love with life, and eager to experience new adventures as the summer of 1999 reached its peak. With my 14th birthday approaching, I was embarking on a mission trip to Prescott, Ontario, Canada—my first mission trip ever.
We stayed at a small church in Prescott, where we conducted a small Vacation Bible School for the children in the community. I was placed in charge of a group of third graders. But about the second or third day we were there, things got a bit out of hand…out of my hands, to be specific.
I finished teaching the lesson for the day 15 minutes early. Not good. It only took half of that time for the kids to get rambunctious. I love kids, mind you. It’s just that, when it comes to being strict, I’m…not. I was desperately trying to keep these rowdy kids occupied (only 10 more minutes until crafts)! Anything—anything—just to keep them busy. Well, then one of them got out some markers and had the bright idea that they all color. It was brilliant! Except that they wanted to color on my face. And then I made one of the most intelligent decisions of my life:
I let them.
First one kid drew a streak across my cheek.
Then a few more scribbled on my forehead.
Then they all started going to town on my face—their very own drawing canvas.
And then it was time for crafts. I took them upstairs, rainbow face and all. I’m surprised there wasn’t a pot of gold at the end of my nose. Yeah, it was that bad!
I was humiliated. All of my friends laughed at me, and the adults on our trip were simply surprised. I laughed too, but underneath I felt horrible. I had failed. I had been trusted with a task, and I had messed up big time! I felt inadequate, insufficient, useless, clumsy, inept, worthless, and just plain stupid. How could I have let this happen!? I thought. The VBS concluded that day, and though I washed the markers off my face, the feelings of inadequacy remained.
In the afternoons, we would go to a nearby campground and do pretty much the same thing we would do in the mornings, just shortened. That day, it was my turn to teach the Bible story. I got up, still feeling miserable about myself, and told the story of Zacchaeus (see Luke 19:1-10 if you need your mind refreshed on what took place). I focused on how Jesus wanted to be Zacchaeus’ friend, and that he wanted the same for all of us. Jesus loves and wants to befriend each and every one of us.
It was a good and true point, but once again I felt I did a very lousy job with the whole thing. I ended up presenting how to become a Christian at the end and botched it up pretty bad—my friends had to hold up construction-paper signs to tell me what to say next. The Bible story was supposed to be a 30 minute lesson. It ended up more along the lines of 5 minutes. I finished, and we moved on to crafts. Disheartened, I moseyed around, helping kids make binoculars out of cardboard tubes or something like that. It had not been my day.
But then a boy raised his hand.
I walked over to him, and he gestured to 5-year-old next to him. “This is my brother, Jacob,” he said, “and he wants Jesus to be his friend, too.”
In a moment, God turns sorrow into joy.
I brought some of my friends over to Jacob, and we led him to Christ. I’m sure I clumsily explained how to be saved, but it didn’t matter anymore. I wasn’t the one that changed Jacob’s life that day. God did.
I said this story was about a hammer. But there wasn’t anything about a hammer in the story, you say.
I’m the hammer. I was—and I am—a tool in God’s hand. You see, what I learned that day was that I am inadequate. I can’t do it on my own. Jesus says this in John 15:5. “I am the vine; you are the branches. If a man remains in me and I in him, he will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.”
What I’m able to do isn’t the issue. What God can do through me is. Only in God’s hands am I effective—just like a hammer. If a hammer does not yield itself to the carpenter’s hands, it remains quite useless. But it is in its use that it finds significance—when The Master picks it up and says, “let’s go to work, together, you and I.” See, that’s the amazing thing about being a tool in God’s hand. As God’s tools, we are loved. He doesn’t use us just to take advantage of us. He involves us because He loves us. In John 15:8-16, Jesus tells us we are not slaves to the will of an unfeeling god. We are friends of the Almighty Entity that knows and loves us.
“This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.
“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you obey my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you my friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. This is my command: Love each other.”
You see, when we enter a relationship with Christ, we’re not servants kept on the fringe. Jesus brings us close into himself. He lets us into His inner circle. He gets personal.
Yes, I messed up in Prescott. But God showed me that day it didn’t matter at all. Our inadequacies aren’t the point. His love is. In spite of all the times I’ve messed up, I’ve always been loved. In spite of my failures, God chose me to be His tool! He involved me in His plan!
This includes sin, as well. That’s where it sends chills down my spine: It was my sin that pummeled Jesus on the cross. It was my sin that killed Him. It was because of me...and yet for me...that He died. But the hammer that put the nails in Jesus’ hands is now His instrument of righteousness.
And this is true for all of us.
You see, He loves us so much! He wants to involve us. The least we can do is love Him right back. Check out Deut. 6:5.
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.”
Yes, this is a command. But it isn’t a threat. It isn’t, “do this or else.” Love cannot be forced. What this verse shows is that love is wholehearted, or not at all. Let me ask you, when was the last time you told God, “I love you” (and meant it)? To be honest, I don’t like that question, but it’s because I don’t like my answer. I don’t say it enough. More often than not, I don’t say it at all.
But that’s exactly what praise and worship is, you know: It is our expression of our love for God.
I once had a friend who defined worship as “being close enough to kiss.” I like that. Worship is intimacy with Jesus. But so often we miss that. I miss that. That’s very sad, too, because to miss out on worship is to miss out on the very thing we were made for. We were made to love and be loved.
And there is every reason to love Him. Out of all the times I’ve needed God to come through for me, you know how many times He has? All of them! Even the times I think He hasn’t come through—when He’s thwarted something I wanted—are only because He has something so much better in mind. Think about it. Has He ever let you down?
My story is proof of His love and faithfulness. My testimony is not one of great spiritual prestige. But it is one of deep significance. I am here to love God, because He loves me, and to show His Love to others—regardless of inadequacy.I am His Rainbow Face—a hammer painted in Heaven’s colors.

2 comments:

Mr. Brian said...

:) That was a very very good terrific story Daniel! Good Job

Anonymous said...

Daniel, as a teacher, I don't think you failed completely in Prescott. Your main task during that class was to keep those children safe. While they were coloring your face, I am pretty sure, no one got hurt except for your ego. It served the purpose of keeping the children safe and giving you a brilliant object lesson in the process. Good job. You are my own dear son, in whom I am well-pleased.