You, Mark

Do you ever feel like Mark?

Around you are amazing men, doing great things, and all you want to do is join them. You want to be known, maybe not as Paul, but at least as Paul's companion. As one who walks with Bartholomew, the encourager.

You don't expect to be great. But you want to help those who are.

But when you join their journey -- suddenly you're overwhelmed. The road is rougher than you thought. You miss your family back in your hometown. You've been mocked and tried more than you ever have been before. You're footsore, heartweary, and headnumb.

All you wanted to do was help. Maybe you wanted a little fame, but you knew that was wrong and you tried to fight it. You really wanted to give Paul a hand.

But now - you're tired, and you aren't helping. You feel like you must be a burden.

So you turn back. At least you won't make everyone else, those who are faithfully serving, enduring through hardship, bear your sin in addition to everything else.

They can probably do better without you.

And then comes Bartholomew, Bartholomew the encourager. "Come with me," he says. "I can use you."

And you resist. How can you be of use to anyone? You couldn't endure when the road was hard. Your comfort was too important to you. You let everyone down. Even if you had continued, you still would have, one way or another.

But Bartholomew insists. He believes in you. So, you don your cloak and pick up your walking stick and step out to try again.

And then, Paul says no.

You failed them. Why should they take you along? Why won't you fail them again? With work to be done and souls to save, who has time to care for an immature, unreliable kid?

And you cannot argue. You agree with Paul. Why would they want your help?

But Bartholomew says no. He wants you. He says you must stay. And when Paul disagrees, they split.

There you go again, causing strife and headaches and distracting from the important work.

You follow on with Bartholomew, resolved to do your best, but with sorrowful guilt nagging at your heart. You can only beg God to keep you from stumbling this time.

And God works through you, and the weariness of the journey does not defeat you, though you have never been so tried. And still, the guilt lies in the back of your mind, dormant in the corners of your heart.

But your story isn't over.

"Get Mark and bring him with you," Paul says, "for he is useful to me for ministry."

In passing he mentions it, as if it means nothing, as if hearing it your eyes do not fill with tears. As if a hesitant smile isn't forming in your soul.

Useful. Useful to Paul. Useful for ministry.

You. You who failed. You who turned back when the road was rocky. You who sought comfort over compassion. Now, your failures are forgiven and forgotten. You're given another chance.

Not only that, but you're useful. You run the words over and over in your mind. You're useful to the Apostle. You're useful to your Lord. Useful for ministry.

God specializes in using failed vessels. Humbled, you go to Paul, ready to serve.