Here is an example of the principle I described in my previous post.
I am dyslexic and profoundly dyspraxic. This functions as a massive tear in the fabric of who I am. This tear is often painful, and at times overwhelming. My ability to process and respond to information is massively compromised. So, for example, I don’t drive (there is, continuously, so much information to process so quickly – on the dashboard; what is going on inside the car; what is going on around the car – that my brain can’t keep up and opts out of trying). Written information, such as a bank statement or information I am expected to respond to within a certain timeframe, is just so much static, or white noise, overwritten, indecipherable. Correspondence, including email, is a nightmare; the volume of paperwork involved in being a school governor like facing a giant tidal wave without a surfboard (and what is a dyspraxic going to do with a surfboard, anyway?). I can count the number of books I have read cover-to-cover for pleasure on my fingers; and if I remove my socks I can probably count the number of books I have read cover-to-cover as an adult on my fingers and toes.
Not only am I torn; the tear is ripping bigger every day.
I am also one of the most original, creative, and apparently insane, visionaries I know.
That is a direct consequence of how Jesus has used the tear created in me by dyspraxia to allow his kingdom to pour through, as one who sees what is not yet, as one whose prophetic imagination acts as a piece of grit around which the pearl of the future can coalesce. I say that with no arrogance, but with confidence in my identity as a son of God - this confidence is rare, but isn’t meant to be; the Spirit of God testifies this truth to my spirit (Romans 8) – and confidence in my particular identity among the many children of God – this confidence is rarer still, but isn’t meant to be; we are created as a particular gift of Jesus, and when we give ourselves as a gift to him, he gives us as a gift to others (Ephesians 4). As I heard Jay Pathak, a Vineyard church leader from the USA, observe recently, “true humility is not thinking less of yourself; true humility is thinking of yourself less.” I am well aware of my weaknesses, my failings, the places where I am torn. And I am well aware of how God has used that tear – and long for him to use it more and more.
God’s grace is sufficient for us, for his power is made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12).