"I can't fix anything. Or anyone."

If I have learned anything in these first 3 weeks, it’s that we people want people to save us. Sometimes we look in friendships; “Can you see me?” Sometimes in marriages; “Am I worth loving?” Sometimes even in parent-teacher conferences; “Are my kids talented enough to make me feel whole?” And lots of us look to pastors; “AM I FORGIVEN?”

It’s remarkable how many people our pastors at Embrace meet with each week.

The meetings are good and necessary and bring healing and new ideas—yet it is so evident that we all so often want other people to ‘fix’ us. I believe that God has put a wanting in our hearts, a desire to be whole and clean and free. Unburdened, unburned. Full of hope and purpose. I believe God offers us these things in Jesus Christ.

But so often we get confused because we can’t see God or His Son. We can’t feel his touch or hear his voice. So we settle for things we can touch hear and see: people. People who are, in the end, looking for people to fix them too.

We ask them to fix our problems.

Point us where to go.

Tell us what to do.

Tell us who we are.

I have done this so many times in my life. I still remind myself every morning when I walk into the church that my bosses, my pastors, can’t save me.  They can’t give me a purpose. Can’t make me feel good enough. It’s tempting to ask anyway.

And now that I am in full-time ministry the thought of someone ever looking to me to ‘fix’ him or her is terrifying…because I am so broken, too. Coming to me for healing would be like taking your malfunctioning car to a blind, thumb-less mechanic wearing a dress. No one does that.

I’ve seen pretty quickly that people come broken into the church. Myself included. We drag with us our broken relationships, habits, spirits, beliefs and bodies. I used to think that being in ministry was like being a doctor at a hospital. Stitching and setting and diagnosing and putting-right. Now I know that’s not the case at all.

Instead, I am a gawky intern in second-hand scrubs blindly running the broken on wheeled stretchers to the only Great Physician that can do anything about their problems. Maybe I whisper words of encouragement along the way...if I’m doing it right.

Running them to the only One who can make us whole, clean and free. Unburdened and unburned. Full of hope and purpose. 

Do you know that Doctor?