Last school year, I worked in the Calling and Career Office helping students craft resumes showcasing their skills and experiences in order to give an accurate and polished representation of their qualifications to potential employers. In my internship now, I’m learning how to evaluate applicants and get a sense for whether they are a good fit for the position and the company. Bottom line: I would never tell someone to throw away their resume.
But reviewing applicant qualifications and hearing strangers’ stories at career fairs reminds me so much of the version of Christianity I thought was the truth for so long. The goal seemed to be to attain the status of a “good girl,” and anything that distanced me from that self-image brought a crisis of faith. In middle school and most of high school, I struggled to believe that a holy and perfect God would love someone like me. While I generally believed that He could forgive me for my selfish attitude and actions, I wasn’t at all convinced that He would want to. It still makes no sense that He would know my deepest thoughts and motivations and want me.
Because I’m a control freak, I worked hard to build up a reliable resume to show anyone who might question my faith: I did a lot of the “right thing” (sometimes for the right reason, sometimes not), volunteered, prayed at every meal, established a strong reputation–gotta get those references–and tried to be that classic good girl. There wasn’t anything inherently wrong with most of my choices, but I was living my life outside the context of an authentic relationship with God because I hadn’t truly accepted the forgiveness He offered me. I was living on my own rapidly deteriorating strength.
At some point, I decided that God’s offer of forgiveness was no longer available to me. In order to avoid disappointment, I abandoned the hope of salvation and denied myself God’s love. Like a prospective applicant whose story broke my heart this week, I was looking the abundant life dead in the face, declaring myself unworthy, and lowering my eyes to the empty life I assumed would be left for me. The empty life I deserved.
The beauty of our Father God fiercely crafting the sacrifice of His own Son’s life to afford us forgiveness overwhelms me now even more because of how long I lived without that hope. I intimately knew how undeserving I was. But I didn’t understand that it is this very helplessness that motivates my Father to make a way, to chase after me, to convince me by whatever drastic measures necessary that yes, YES, salvation and forgiveness and abundance and intimacy–they are for me, too! Yes, He thought of me when He sent Jesus to experience humanity, to live a blameless life, to suffer a criminal’s death on the cross, and to rise again victorious over death and hell and shame.
All this so that I, too, could come to Him with all my shattered pieces, my corrupted, messy heart, and my dirty, worthless “good works” done in pride. All this so that He could welcome me into His presence, redeemed by the sacrifice of His Son, and love me as His own. Without regard for my resume, without disqualifying me for a lack of education or a spotty criminal history. He knew we would always fall short, so He sent His Son to redefine the requirements and to make them attainable, with His help:
If you declare with your mouth, “Jesus is Lord,” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. (Romans 10:9, NIV)
Applying for a job is a vulnerable process: trying to prove your worth, demonstrate your competence, and answer every question just right. But we are safe bringing our vulnerability to a God whose desire is to bring us into right relationship with Him. For “As Scripture says, ‘Anyone who believes in him will never be put to shame'” (Romans 10:11, NIV). God is the One we can always trust with our baggage, our broken hearts, failures, and our unworthiness. He will not turn us away, but accept us with open arms–run to us, as the prodigal son’s father:
So he got up and went to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him. (Luke 15:20, NIV)
Praise God! The love and salvation He offers us is the polar opposite of a hiring process. He’s not looking to weed people out or decide if they’re a good fit. He doesn’t ask for years of experience, a clean record, and five different certifications to determine whether we bring value. He is filled with compassion for us; He sees our value because He created it; He desires a relationship with us before we’ve even read the job description to see if we qualify. If there were an online application for God’s love, the auto-reply would say in giant, bold letters, “YOU’RE HIRED! We want YOU!” And every. single. soul. that turns to God for forgiveness and a personal relationship with Him will receive it.
Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved. (Romans 10:13, NIV)
That means me, too! And you, too! Hallelujah. We serve a merciful God.
P.S. God has been giving me an increased boldness and ability to share the transformative work He has done in my life, and while I hold my salvation story close to my heart, I also hold it loosely because it’s a testament to God’s love, pursuit, and mercy more than anything else. I would be honored to share the story of His unbelievable faithfulness with anyone who has questions or needs some evidence of His presence even now. Feel free to reach out anytime 🙂
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