Driftwood from Indonesia

Let’s talk about driftwood. The leftovers. The remnants. The tiny pieces of a memory or a dream. Let’s talk about driftwood.

Indonesia was huge for me. Learning that I didn’t have to be God’s attorney. Learning that I was under no condemnation. Learning that I was loved despite my past, present, and everything in between. Learning who God was. Indonesia changed my life. To be fair, every moment that passes is “life-changing” because my life is changed from that one moment to the next. But Indonesia was LIFE-CHANGING. In a “Lord, I’m yours…broken, but still fighting for love…have your way” kind of way.

So remove me out of my element (island living). Remove me out of a group of solid friends. Transplant me back in America, in a city, without any of those friends. All I’m left with is driftwood.

Driftwood is an accurate way to describe what I was left with after Indonesia initially. An accurate way to describe how my life felt.

It wasn’t pretty, it wasn’t even functional. It was just pieces of shattered wood, drifting with the tide. That’s what my life was. I felt like God broke a lot of walls down in Indonesia. Like he took an axe and chopped away at the door to my heart. And all I was left with was the little wood chips.

My heart was so weak, it was broken and still hurting, but healing.

As the weeks went by, the more friends I debriefed with, the more scripture I read, the more my heart was slowly pieced back together by the One who created it. See, God doesn’t just destroy something to leave it broken. He’s a healer. Even when it looks like something is being broken, it’s being broken so He can fix it the way it’s supposed to be. He’s breaking something fallen to restore it to the majesty of its former state. Of its original state. Of its intended state.

So the driftwood floated and floated and slowly His hands pulled it out of the water and he set it down in the sand near his paints and wood glue. And lovingly he refashioned the driftwood back into something to be used. Something so unique that only He knew what to do with it. Something He needed. Something functional to Him.


I’m not whole.

I’m not perfect.

I’m not done.

But I am closer. The wood glue is still drying around the cracks of my heart. But God has proved Himself. He has proved Himself to be a healer. He has taken the driftwood and given me purpose and drive and experience and lessons. He’s showed me love through others. He has awakened my heart.


Maybe someday I will be able to be a vessel for God to use. I want to be a blessing, to usher God in, to bring His kingdom. I used to think all I could be was driftwood, but God is calling me out of my hurt and from glory to glory.


Lysh Out!


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