“The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me.”
A tree grew in the depths of a forest. Every year it watched men come and chop down other trees to use to make fine furniture. Every year they passed over the tree, for it was too rough and twisted. As the years passed, the tree resigned itself to never being useful. It would never end up in someone’s home as a beautiful table or desk.
One morning, two men came into the forest. They ran their hands over the tree. “This one will do,” said one of the men as he lifted an ax to chop down the tree. After a few strokes, it fell to the ground. The men carried it out of the woods, into town. They sawed and hammered the tree. When they were done, they placed it on the back of a carpenter. Amid a frenzied crowd, He labored to carry it up a hill. When they arrived at the top of the hill, His hands and feet nailed to the tree. For many hours, He hung bleeding, His arms stretched out wide. Later, some men gently took Him down and wrapped Him in grave cloth and took Him away. Night fell. God whispered to the tree, “You’ve done well. Thank you.”
“Why are you thanking me?” the tree said. “I don’t know what I’ve become, but I’m not a beautiful table or desk.”
“You are far more beautiful than a table or a desk,” God said.
“How can that be?” The tree asked. “I’m full of imperfections. I’m useless.”
“You don’t have to be perfect to do my work,” God explained. “Many that I choose are imperfect, just like you.”
The tree had no way of knowing just how big a role it had played in God’s Kingdom. You and I don’t know how big our roles are, either. In our rough and twisted, imperfect lives, God uses us in ways we’ll never understand. We may worry that others are better, that the roles they are chosen for are more important. But we worry needlessly. Our imperfections are perfect for the work God uses us for.