I sat in a group of women at a meeting for school last night.  Women with their notebooks and blackberries.  Organized women.  Capable women.  And I felt smaller than usual.  Less than.  There I sat with absolutely no organizational tool with me.  Just showed up.  These were take charge women with strong opinions who jumped into chair the new committee.  I literally felt like a little girl again.  Lost in the shuffle of adult women who had it all together.

Those of you who know me, know that my mind is random, if nothing else.  I function and have raised four children without a calendar.  All my plans are inside my head and heart and nowhere else.  Which drives my organized, well-thought-out friends crazy.  And sometimes it drives me crazy, too.  This is not how normal adults operate.  What is wrong with me?

I came home feeling somewhat defeated.  The only thing that I had contributed to the meeting was giving my name and whose mom I was.  (Which got a huge response from the teacher/coach leading the meeting, who said, “Blake Jarvis?  I love Blake!  He has come into this school and given everyone a whole new sense of school spirit!)  And that kind of sums it up, doesn’t it?  What do I offer?  Organization?  No.  Great planning?  No.  Knowing all the ins and outs of every event and committee and meeting?  No.  Just goofiness.  Just the rah! rah! rah! fun element. Lame.

I found myself still struggling with this this morning.  The old game of comparison.  A game that I hate because I will always come up short, literally and figuratively.  Try as I might, I can’t think like these other women.  I forget too many things.  Organized thought escapes me.  Planning bores me to tears. Distraction is constantly calling my name.  My mind is racing in dozens of directions at any given time. Lists make me sweat.  Areas I know that I need to improve on,  but that are not organically me.  Someone just tell me what to do, and I will do it with my whole heart.  Put me in a room with people to toss around creative people and I am your girl.  But please, please, don’t ask me to be in charge of anything.  I will only disappoint.

And then I sat down with Jesus for our quiet time together.  And today our reading was in Exodus 3.  Moses.  God showed up in a burning bush that didn’t burn up.  God showing up in a way that didn’t make sense, humanly speaking.  God called Moses’ name.  And all Moses had to say was, “Here I am.”  He didn’t offer all of his qualifications that would cause God to want to use him.  In fact, after God tells him what He wants him to do, Moses feels as if God made a mistake in choosing him.  “Who am I?” he asks.  He knew his own weaknesses, shortcomings and fears.

And I love this.  Moses’ focus was on “Who am I?”  But God’s response was, “I am who I am.”  Same words, turned around.  God could use Moses not because of who he was, but because of who God was.   Isn’t that awesome?!  “I am who I am.”

I will never be “all that”.  And that’s a good thing.  Because then when God chooses to use me, it is very obvious that it is Him and NOT me.

Later, in chapter 4, Moses is reminding God that he isn’t eloquent and is “slow of speech and tongue”  Basically, “I don’t know what to say, or how to say it.”  And God’s loving response is, “I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.”   Basically, “I’m right here with you.  Your mentor.  Your friend.  I will do this through you.”

God has revealed many burning bushes to me lately.  Things that don’t make sense, but are very clearly God calling my name.  I feel unworthy.  Unqualified.  And I am.  And that’s kind of the point.  God uses the least likely candidates because His glory is what ends up shining through.

So, I am kicking off my sandals on this holy ground and with everything in this random, crazy, unorganized brain I say, “Here I am…..”