Wanted: Unqualified Personnel

“I had an aunt who worried that I lived in an unreal world. But what is real? In the Bible we are constantly being given glimpses of a reality quite different from that taught in school, even in Sunday school. And these glimpses are not given to the qualified; there’s the marvel. It may be that the qualified feel no need of them.

“In a very real sense not one of us is qualified, but it seems that God continually chooses the most unqualified to do his work, to bear his glory. If we are qualified, we tend to think that we have done the job ourselves. If we are forced to accept our evident lack of qualifications then there’s no danger that we will confuse God’s work with our own, or God’s glory with our own.”  Madeleine L’Engle  Walking on Water  

 

From Moses to Gideon to a young teenage girl, God chooses the stuttering, weak, and seemingly insignificant people of the world to play a part in changing it. Though it’s true, as ML’E stated, that “not one of us are qualified,” it is amazing to see those that God chooses to use in particularly powerful ways. The real work of His kingdom doesn’t come from some guy on TV with great hair and a winning smile talking about your best life ever. Nope. It’s the everyday people that don’t have it together, and know it, and continue “following the Rabbi ’til [they’re] covered in His dirt.” (Great lyrics taken from Tedashi’s song Born Again). 

Being an artist can feel like a blessing and a burden. To take part in the creative process, to invent, to lead others on a journey through words, pictures, or music is just as therapeutic for the creator as it is for the consumer. If you were to do a study of great artists, writers, and composers of the past (Christian or otherwise) you would find a collection of broken, sometimes sickly, and often touched-in-the-head sorts of people. Most never achieved a lick of fame until they were long gone. But their craft was their anchor to life, and for many, their connection to God and a personal expression of their love for Him.

With today’s technology, it is much easier to find an audience while our heart is still beating (a great perk). Though the internet has changed how we connect and has birthed new reasons to create, the creative process still sets things right within the artistic soul. More than ever the “unqualified” have an opportunity to share beauty and cause change within this chaotic planet. There’s a God-given responsibility to use these resources, and our gifts, with excellence.

Before I became a writer—a term I still feel awkward using—I was (and still am) a ballet teacher. Talk about “unqualified”. . . I never even tried ballet until I was a mother of four.  Though I had the gift of dance and grew up frolicking with abandon (and enjoyed the opportunity to dance some in school with a dance team and cheerleading), my parents never had the money to put me in classes. But the music and the rhythm were in me, always. My sweet husband found out I loved to dance—a secret I just never thought to share for many years—and told me to take some classes. The only lessons available for adults were ballet.

Long story short, a fine arts academy where my children took classes needed another ballet teacher. That was twelve years ago! The school is home to nearly 900 homeschoolers every Monday and Tuesday learning instruments, drama, choir, art and more. The teachers are all college graduates and/or experts in their field.

And then there’s me.

It’s quite humbling and it’s also exhilarating to contemplate how perfectly God set me up. Through this opportunity I had a creative outlet (which I desperately needed), doing something I LOVED (and got paid to do!), and was given the awesome responsibility to teach others to worship the Lord through dance. Getting to choreograph each classes’ performance is a way for me to tell stories on the stage—and my favorite part of the  job.

But you know what? I still feel uncomfortable telling people I’m a ballet teacher. I feel like a poser. An impostor. How can I possibly be qualified to teach with the caliber of teachers surrounding me? How can I teach something I myself didn’t learn until I was well settled into the career of motherhood?

I’ve had to learn to accept that it’s a gift, in the literal sense. God loves me and delights in giving me, His daughter, good gifts. In turn I have the privilege of giving back to Him, and relying on His grace and faithfulness to bring each class through a year of learning ballet from scratch to performing a worshipful dance. It’s a nerve-racking thrill each and every year!

And now, with kids nearly grown, I’ve looked to how I can be a steward of other gifts, like writing. I’m as unqualified to write as I am to teach dance . . . but in God’s economy, things play out differently. And, I know me. I know how easily my pride wants to step up and pat myself on the back and whisper in my ear that I’m amazing. If I did have some sort of training and credentials to help propel my career, I’d be more apt to try to share in the glory that belongs to God.

Either way, it’s all His—but my obvious lack of anything that is mine is what I, personally, need to keep my perspective right. Keeps me grounded in the fact that I am quite “unqualified,” a fact I am learning to rejoice in, rather than feel embarrassed about.

What ways do you feel  unqualified? I know that there are many people with proper training that wouldn’t struggle with pride and self-sufficiency the way I probably would. Do you have certain reminders of God’s grace that you meditate on to keep grounded? I hope you’ll share . . . and don’t worry, I won’t think you’re bragging 🙂