All the little perfect things, are just too small a part of me; I want to share more!

I like to belong, don’t you? If you ever get tired of these questions I ask you, just know that I ask them because I want you to belong–to this post, yes, but also to the subject I address here. I want you to know that you’re a part of what I’m talking about–just like I’m a part.

I don’t want to leave you way out there. To me, there is no point to talking if the goal is not to draw another in; to bring them closer to you by making yourself nearer to them. I do not speak or write merely for the sake of filling the world with more words, my words. I speak, I write, because I want to invite someone (in this case, you) into what’s going on inside my heart. And, I hope will also draw near to me and invite me into what’s going on insider their heart.

These things are important. I think in some way, nearly everything¬† inside becomes as a loss to us if it is not ultimately shared with another person. We were meant to share out of the depths of our hearts–this brings life to both the other person and us. We need this. It’s part of who we are. Yet, so many of us avoid it.

I did. I kept myself closed up. Letting out only what represented the most perfect pieces of me, thinking that these represented, by implication, the best parts of me. I was wrong. The best parts of me are the real parts. They are the things that I don’t keep hidden inside. They are the things I learn how to share because I discover that there is a way this can be safe.

It is safe, not in the sense that I won’t risk harm, but that in wisely risking harm I can find healing. For, finding healing proves to be safer to the soul than living without it. So, we do not expect the world to be so good at accepting what we have to share. We hope they will be better than we have thought them to be, but disclosure is not dependent on our reception. We ares safe to be who we are because the world is not the ultimate determiner of who we are, nor do we expect it to fully understand who we are. Why should we? After all, we’re still figuring that out!

And so, I speak, and you can speak, not because we are impervious to hurt, but because God is the One in whose affection and acceptance we rest. If we’ve come to the cross with the matter of our sin and failures, He has already dealt with us. We are on a first-name basis with Him. He knows us and we know Him as we embrace the redemption that He works in and all around us.

So, why not play hide-and-seek on the inside? See what you might bring out and share. Share it first with God–an example of unwrapping your most hidden identity before Him. Once you do this, you can risk doing it with others. If they hurt you, they do not have the power to push you back inside and make you hide. If they hear you, you might just find that your words give them the power to share similar ones with you! It may even push them to consider sharing something with your Father and letting Him take that place in their hearts as well. Wouldn’t being a part of that be a treat for you?

I have a burden to be unburdened, Lord!

Have you ever felt like you had too much too do and you’re already impatient with yourself for what is not done? I know that the feeling is not so unusual in this crazy world of amp’ed up schedules and overburdened lives, but what I’m specifically talking about is an overburdened heart.

Can you identify with that? I know I can. It seems like my heart has been overburdened since birth. There have been so many things to contend with, so much to learn to understand. So much I’ve wanted to change and un-root from within me.

That’s a lot to have on one’s emotional to-do list. But I haven’t seen it that way; rather, I’ve considered it all to be necessary and so I’ve plunged in and tried to make a 24 hour workplace of my heart.

It will come as no surprise to you that I’m exhausted. But, to me all I can tell myself is that I can’t afford to be tired. If I slow down everything will just take longer and may, if I’m not careful, never get resolved at all.

I can’t live with that. I need to know that I’m making my way speedily along to healing. I need to know that the pain is quickly being overtaken by gain.

But while my desires for healing–like yours–are good, I think I need to pay attention for a moment to why I get derailed in this journey. I don’t think it is that I want too much. I think it is that I want too much from the wrong source. When I’m rushing along in this fierce pursuit of healing I’m not being still enough to be healed.

It’s like I think God’s forgotten that I’m broken. It is that I think He needs instruction on how to care. But isn’t this thinking pattern something that needs to be healed as well? Shouldn’t I hope for the day when I can be at ease in the knowledge that He is “it”?

I want that to be my reality. When doubts scream at me and try to tell me that I can be a better God than He, may I shut them up. May I tell them, tell Him I don’t want to be. I wasn’t made to be satisfied with such independence; rather, I was meant to be connected. Therefore, I want someone else to care for me so I can become who I was made to be.

Yes, I need lessons, Lord. So, would You help me sit and receive them?

 

Is there something to being soft?

If you would have asked me a few years ago what my thoughts were on being soft, I would have told you that being soft meant you got bruised. Period. Needless to say, it was useless and stupid to be soft.

Can you share my thinking? Do you have painful experiences to back this up. I do. In light of this I determined at an early age that I would be as tough as I could be–hoping that this would make me strong. It didn’t. In fact, unbeknownst to me, it actually weakened me. I wasn’t able to express my true self or care for others as I longed to be able to do; worst of all, I was not able to be receptive towards God. Tenderness was lost in an effort to protect myself. And protect myself I did: I protected myself from love, grace, mercy, peace, etc–I kept myself guardedly aloof from the entire soul-ministry that God wanted to get going in me.

I lost so much for so many years. I thought the gains were worth the cost, but I was wrong. I still got hurt–in fact, the pain of past wounds still remained festering within me. I wasn’t serving myself by keeping myself apart from risk in relationships–I was needlessly closing myself from my only exit from the pain–my only healing.

I didn’t understand them that healing is a miracle that takes place in the midst of our pain, not in the absence or denial of it. It’s a miracle because without God this would never happen: We would refuse to enter into such a severe chamber and He–but for His unfathomable love for us–should not have provided us an entrance.

It is knowing that God feels my pain with me and is not helpless to deliver me from the destruction of it that softens my heart and wins the trust of my spirit. I can expect nothing good from God–that is, prepare to take it in–unless I allow Him to whittle away at my doubts. I am a hardened person when I believe that I have every reason to put God in the same category as every sinner and plot of Satan that has ever hurt me. Until my eyes are opened to the character of God, I will not be able to separate Him from the rest; instead, I will ultimately Him for all my pain.

I must concentrate on reconciling with God before I can consider rebuilding myself or any other relationship. God is the One who makes me whole; to recognize in every situation that He is more than able to care for me. I can face pain and problems and grow if I let God have the latitudes for grace in suffering, sorrow and surrender that He desires.