I am still very attached to Mariners Mission Viejo Church—the church my husband and I planted four and a half years ago.
(My husband doesn’t work there anymore—he’s back pastoring at the main campus again)
But I miss it—the sounds, the smells, the AMAZING peeps.
When my husband is out of town, like he was this week, I take the kids and we sneak back in to our old home away from home and CHILLAX. No pressure here. I’m not the pastor’s wife–just Sam.
I also keep up with MMV. I do a Bible Study here and read the Compass newsletter that lead Pastor Jeff Maguire sends out.
Last week, he made a comment at the end of his letter that had me in stitches.
Jeff was referencing how he responds to people when they ask how the service went on Sunday.
And in the newsletter he responds—if everything went well—“I was good.”
I stopped and read it again.
ok…
It’s not really something Jeff would say. He’s a pretty humble guy. More of a foot washing type than a kiss my butt kind of guy.
But he’s also ridiculously funny.
At a wedding once, an old lady asked me if he was a professional dancer or a comedienne.
“No Mam, that’s the pastor.”
Yep, he’s That FUNNY.
So, when I read his words, I figured he was being a bit of a smart ass.
But at service this week, he shared it was a typo. What he meant to say was: “It was good.”
One little “t” makes all the difference between perceived arrogance and humility.
Seriously, I don’t even know how many people actually read the church newsletter.
But I imagine Jeff’s blood pressure probably shot up.
Because mine would have.
My people pleasing personality (that I rebel against with everything I’ve got) would be freaking out!
I would pray and beat my chest and wail, “Why God? Why?”
I would head to the beach and stick my head in the sand. I’d be embarrassed.
At least for a day or two until everyone forgot my doofus move.
But I’ve thought about it some more and maybe saying “I was good” isn’t the worst thing ever.
What if it was ok to own that that our God does awesome things through us on occasion?
If the definition of true humility is: knowing who we are in light of Christ, then we must acknowledge that a Good God uses us (broken, lame, normal people) to accomplish his good works.
Marianne Williamson writes, “Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world…We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.”
Pastor Jeff, I think you are pretty good! Maybe, really good! In fact, I think most people would agree with me who go to MMV that you are a great pastor.
Not perfect, but pretty dang good.
So, don’t worry about the typo.
Maybe God simply wanted you to know how much he loves you.
Maybe he wants us to know its ok to be a little good.
Not “Good” like a Holy and Perfect God Good, but good because of God within us good.
Jeff, what if God was using you—as a catalyst perhaps—for the rest of us who are struggling and insecure about our gifts and image in light of God?
What if someone looked in the mirror because of your typo and said, “I could do something good for the Kingdom of God too. I am an image bearer. I won’t let my fear define me. Maybe I have some good to offer the world if my faith is bigger than my insecurity!”
(I might be stretching here, but roll with my point)
So cheers to the typo. I think we all need to forget the “t” on occasion and remember who we really are.
A little good, a lot broken, and loved by a big God.