“If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk, and if you spend yourselves on behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will shine in darkness, and your light will become like to noonday.” – Isaiah 58:10
Before I came back to YWAM Ireland, a lot of people prayed about this time in my life. I certainly spent much time in prayer about it. I took a two week trip here a year ago to seek the voice of God in this land, to put aside my own wishes and to unite my vision for my life with His.
In all of these prayers, there was a consistent theme – that my ministry in Northern Ireland would be a cycle of brokenness and healing. That pouring out of the brokenness of myself as a person, that healing for others, and then myself would come.
Considering I felt like this is the exact theme of my life of ministry, I was neither surprised nor concerned. When I got into a car accident several years ago and then became sick for a long time, I was so angry with God for allowing that to happen, and “ruin me” when I was planning on spending my life in service. During my Discipleship Training School (DTS), God talked to me a lot about this very issue. He said, “Kayla, if you had not experienced the reality of death, how could you comprehend the sacrifice of my death on the cross? How could you really love broken people if you don’t understand the depth of brokenness?” I started realizing then that every part of my heart that is stirred up with love and compassion for others stems from a place of knowing their pain all too well.
This proclamation of my brokenness being healing didn’t really faze me, considering all this. What I didn’t count on was that I am daily, continually facing my weakness (and having to lean on God’s strength.) I am living in a community of people – wonderful people, but people I don’t know all that well yet. I am with these people ALL THE TIME. If it were up to me, I would have liked to keep a lid on my humanity for a while longer, till I felt safer. But that is not what this journey is about.
It is not about keeping up a facade of always being lovely, always serving, always saying or doing the right thing until everyone was so convinced of my perfection that when I finally messed it up, my mistakes would be overlooked with a kind of disbelief.
It is not about keeping silent my own heartaches or frustrations so I can properly disciple those who I am meant to disciple. I am always discipling them, and I am always being discipled, regardless of whether I am trying to or not.
This is not easy, but the path is a beautiful one, and I learn as I walk.
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for love is the breath 