Deus ex machina

Here's the deal. I haven't been able to sing very much at my own church for more than a year, for reasons that are tragic and stupid and sinful. It's turned me inside out and made me look at my own selfishness and made me rely on God. I have whined and harped about it for far too long, but it really has been unbearable in the way that growing experiences - those blessings that suck - are.

My husband and I have been exiles from church before. Church is one of those things that can't stay good, apparently. I have also been the one not singing many times, but always before I had to admit that the person who was singing was doing a great job (better than I could, the oft-ignored voice of truth whispered). This time the voice of the person who sings instead of me is not always pleasing to the ear, and the sweet aroma of worship has a not-so-faint stink of human pride. So we have had one foot out the door for quite some time, but there is no where to go. I kept wondering if we should stick around for more blessings of the painful and sucky kind. If I'm being tested or punished, let's get on with it.

Then last week I got an email and made a phone call and set up a meeting and by the end of the week I was hired to sing at a different church, a big church with a worship pastor who thinks he's lucky to have me. I had no idea that this could happen, let alone that it might happen to me.

Years ago I got myself into an unhealthy relationship which made me feel worthless and unattractive, even though feeling worthless was what got me into the bad relationship in the first place. In this relationship I managed to dishonor myself and the man involved without having sex, which just shows you how good I am at dishonoring myself, and when it was time to get out of that relationship I figured God would let me suffer a long time before I would get to feel okay again.

Instead, I went to a party and drank some vodka and there was suddenly a younger man who adored me and would loudly proclaim things like "I can't believe you're going out with me" and while it wasn't a magic cure for all of my woundedness, it was pretty freaking fabulous. It's just like God to send me a doughnut when I ought to be dieting, to let me go to the movies when I ought to be studying. To send me a hot guy instead of making me sit home alone and learn my lesson.

I guess part of my lesson was (is) how good God is.

So tomorrow I get to suit up and sing harmony with a couple of other singers on several worship songs that I like. We will be heard, in a vocals-forward mix designed to include the congregation, not impress them. I get to be respected for what I do, which makes me want to do it as well as I possibly can. I get to love on the singers I work with, who are humble and teachable and focused on the congregation's worship of God, not us. I get to do it for two services, not one, and oh my goodness I would do it all for free. But I don't have to.

My home church situation will continue to be tragic and sucky indefinitely, I'm afraid. I have racked my brain and cried out to God. To let me stop caring, or show me how this is my fault, or just: fix it. In the meantime I have mucho forgiving to do, and I'm not doing a good job of it yet.

Deus ex machina=God in the machine. Apparently the ancient Greek playwrights, when their characters got in a jam, could just throw one of their gods into the mix to sort it all out in fine dramatic fashion. This feels like that, except it's the one true God, and He didn't exactly fix it - he just got me the heck out of there. Where this will lead, I don't know, but I'm so grateful. My eyes are opened to God's lavish, overflowing grace and mercy.

We're singing "Beautiful Things" tomorrow, by the amazing Gungors:

"You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of dust
You make beautiful things, you make beautiful things out of us."

Exactly.