Scott Armstrong, Desperation

In times past I have written about my false self, the one that appears competent, complete and lacks nothing.  If you've read my past posts, you may know that it was a counseling program two years ago that dealt me a "severe mercy" that deconstructed me painfully before graciously reconstructing me through the path of humility.  But even when I wrote those words, I warned that it was my natural default and I could go back there in a heartbeat.

Well, I've been there that last 48 hours.  I am 6 months away from beginning a new church here in Candler Park, near downtown Atlanta, and yesterday I started working on my exit strategy, feeling the great urge to escape.  Of course, I've been in ministry since graduating from college 12 years ago and I can't do anything else.  I'm screwed.

And I am scared.  I am feeling the weight of the responsibility that comes with church planting territory.  What if I throw this spiritual party and no one comes?  What if I don't have what it takes to do this after all?  What if I hire a few comrades in arms and the money dries up and they can't get paid...

What if I fell to my knees and felt my true desperation?   

What I want to do is feel back in control but God graciously has kept me from going there.  Today I took great comfort in Psalm 46.  Listen to the Psalmist:

"God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.  Therefore we will not fear..." (v. 1-2a)

"The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress" (v. 7)

"Be still and know that I am God." (v. 10a)

It's that last line that gripped me.  In the midst of my desperation, the Father told me to be still.  Don't move.  Rest.  Listen.

I have listened and I have heard my Father's love for me, and His great desire to lift me up and make great His name.

I need to hear that and the emphasis there is on need. I can easily be indifferent and self-sufficient and not know my desperation, depending on my abilities rather than His power through me. You see, here is the thing I am learning about desperation: it is a paradox. Though we have everything we might truly need and even though God is our strength and will see us through any circumstance we face, he gives us just enough to keep holding on that we might feel our great need of Him. 

It’s why I love the many stories of Israel in the desert wilderness, stories like the manna from heaven, which was given to the Jews each morning and could not be saved up fro the next day (or it rotted and became infested with maggots…lovely). This wilderness was utterly barren—without the bread from heaven, they would die.

That means I am only one step away from the grave and yet…that paradox again…I couldn’t be further from death because of Christ, because the Bread of Life has given me new life.

And so it is this that fuels my desperation. It is what has deepened my prayer life lately and has caused me to cry out to God to give me another day to continue in this mission.

The truth is, I am in way over my head. That’s the point. Jesus wants to tell people in Candler Park that He has brought them freedom from sin and enslavement, that it is He—and no one else—that has done this great thing.

I can tell you with genuineness, I am enjoying my desperation right now—it has freed me from my need to do this myself. Powerlessness never felt so good.

Comments

[Keith]

Scott, thanks so much for passing on the encouragement you received from the Lord. I'm facing a monumental task that's brought my own fear and desperation to the fore in waves. I needed a reminder like yours. I want to enjoy my powerlessness too.

[Loren]

Where can Atlanta folk learn about the plant?

[Russell Smith]

Scott,
What more can I say but Amen. It is both terrifying and wonderful to run into the wall of our own inability. Jesus then shows up and reminds us how wonderful and mighty He is. Thanks for sharing your story -- May Jesus do great things through you and Kerstin down there in Atlanta!
Russell