It’s no accident that Mount Horeb (a.k.a. Mount Sinai), where God called Moses and healed him of his shame and insecurity, was the very place God used Moses to give the 10 Commandments and lay the plans for the tabernacle. Moses’ brokenness became the place from which God used him in the lives of others!
It reminds me of 2 Corinthians 1:3–4, where Paul says to the Corinthians: “Blessed be the … God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God” (ESV). God doesn’t use us despite our brokenness, but because of our brokenness. It’s from the very place of our brokenness that we most often become an instrument of healing.
Before his conversion, for instance, Paul had seen himself as a pretty amazing instrument for God. He was “a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee” (Philippians 3:5). God had to take all that pride and self-confidence out of Paul by cutting him down, striking him blind for a while, then making him live in obscurity for 17 years. Later on, God gave him a permanent thorn, a weakness in the flesh that Paul pleaded for God to take away. But he never answered Paul’s prayer. He left the thorn. Why? God was breaking Paul so he could use him.
We can even see it in the transformation of his name: “Saul” was Paul’s pre-Jesus name. “Saul” was a strong Jewish name taken from the king who stood (literally) head and shoulders above everyone else. The name “Paul,” by contrast, literally meant “small.” In order to be useful in God’s kingdom, Saul the Mighty needed to become Paul the Small, because Saul the accomplished Pharisee couldn’t help the churches. Saul the perfect Pharisee might impress the churches, but he couldn’t help them. But the Paul that had walked through pain and failure? The Paul who believed he was the chief of sinners, who could testify that God would be faithful even in the darkest of days? That’s a guy who can help me.
The best parts of Jesus are learned only in the valley of the shadow of death as God transforms you from Saul the Mighty into Paul the Small.
Perhaps God is allowing you to be wounded so you can testify to his help. Where is that place in your life, that wound you wish would just go away? That’s likely where he’ll use you, because you’ll be able to minister to people out of the place of your woundedness.
Moses spent 40 years in Egypt becoming something. Then he spent 40 years in the desert learning he was nothing. Then he spent 40 years in the wilderness proving God was everything—and he could do that because of God’s faithfulness in the midst of his brokenness. He could say to the frightened people of Israel, “I’ve known that fear; I’ve heard those voices; I’ve felt that shame. And I’m telling you, all that you need is the great I AM!”
I look back on my life now and I recognize that the most valuable places in my life, the places I’ve grown most, the places I can now be most helpful—all of these places grow out of areas in which I’ve failed or struggled and found God faithful anyway. Like Charles Spurgeon said, “Those were the places the storm waves of my life pressed me up against the Rock of Ages.” I can pass on my helpless dependence on him because of what he’s brought me through. Hudson Taylor wrote, “God wants to give you something far better than riches and gold—or personal charisma or talent—and that is helpless dependence upon him.”
I don’t know what situation you’re in, but what I can give to you is a God who is always and infallibly the great I AM. What’s happening to you right now? Is God letting you experience failure? Is God letting you feel your inabilities? Whatever it might be, you can count on one thing: God is doing something in you there, and if you let him, you will one day bring others to this very spot, where your misery becomes your ministry.
