Tag Archives: vulnerability

Moving into the New

Can I just be a little vulnerable here for a minute? I’m really not too good at this, so bear with me.

I have always viewed my mind a little like a filing cabinet. I’ve been really good, most of my life, at compartmentalizing. This part of my life goes in this nice, tidy little box (it’s me, of course, it is nice, tide, color coded, and labeled). And that part of my life goes in this box. Home, School, Work, Church, Friends, Family–each in its tidy little place. For that matter, I have file folders and dividers for each part of my life. All carefully and prudently cataloged.

Yes, I am aware that might sound insane, but that is what my mind has always looked like. It’s how I function. To respond to someone, I have to dig through to the right file, so it takes me a little longer to process than the average person. And sometimes, it drives people around me insane. Sorry…well, not really. It’s who I am.

Lately, though…and this is where my heart moves to my sleeve now, people….my filing cabinets are in disarray! Especially things I thought I had carefully filed and archived, they’re on the floor of my nicely ordered mind and, to be frank, it’s a hot mess. I went out to dinner the other night with some really great friends and just burst into tears–twice. These friends are amazing and made me feel loved and not like a total geek for having a slight break down. If you don’t have friends like these, you are seriously missing out. The point, however, is my nicely controlled world has turned into chaos.

But you’d never know it just by looking at me. On the surface, I’ve got it figured out. I’m pretty put together and I really own my…quirkiness.

Yeah, I do. I own who I am, but I do not have it all figured out. Bless! I doubt I ever will, and that’s okay, but it got me thinking about a lot of different things. How people present themselves to the world, but their minds are still a mystery. God knows us, but sometimes, we hold out our hand and say, “Hey God, I know this is a mess, but you don’t need to worry about me; I’ve got this” and we frantically try to gather up our loose ends and stuff them back in filing cabinets or…shudder…under beds and in closets. If you can’t see it, then it ceases to exist. Right?

God’s standing there like, “Really, dude? You’re going to try to clean this all up yourself?”

And we do. Or we don’t. Either way, it’s still a mess.

And then, I had this really cool experience during GraceLife’s week of prayer and fasting this year.

When we started, I wasn’t really sure what I was praying and fasting for. I felt compelled to do so, but I didn’t really know why. Maybe it was peer pressure. Maybe it was guilt. But definitely, it was God. I spent most of the week praying for others and that was great! I really got out of that mess in my mind and focused on others’ and their needs. On the last day, I read Isaiah 43 as a part of my daily reading plan. Really, there was nothing special for me while I was reading, but then I started praying—it was a very specific prayer for something I want. Something that kind of is responsible for that mess in my mind (but only kind of). And then, I heard it. A whisper from God. 

For I am about to do something new.

New is good…but maybe a little earth shattering. Okay. Very earth shattering and new definitely screws with my nice little filing cabinets. A few years ago, I thought I really hated change and new, but then I came to the stark realization that I NEED change and new in my life. It disorganizes me and forces me to grow. Yeah, it’s painful (sometimes excruciatingly so), but I need it. So this whisper was not unwelcome, but it was surprising, especially when He continued with:

See, I have already begun! Do you not see it, dummy? 

I know what you are thinking. God did NOT call you a dummy. Well, actually I swear that’s what I heard–but it wasn’t insulting it was just kind of a push on the shoulder with a sly little smile. And maybe a wink. And that image of papers fluttering to the floor around my filing cabinets burned itself to the back side of my retinas. Like it all had to be laid out on the floor for me to see and wade through with HIM before I could truly see what He was doing for me and in me.

Whoa. And then he finished with: 

And then he finished with:

I will make a pathway through the wilderness [or, rather, chaos]. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.

A few more papers might have shot from filing cabinets with those last few words. And there I stood, watching them flutter to the floor at my feet.

But instead of frantically trying to gather them all to me, I am now sighing.

And crying.

And healing.

It’s beautiful. It’s painful. It’s a mess. And I don’t really understand it at all (hey, I’m smart, but I’m kind a dummy sometimes too…I hope that doesn’t offend anyone; I’m just being honest).

Fortunately, I don’t need to understand it all right away, I just need to keep moving forward. With Him. Into something NEW.

Because He makes all things new.

Even you.

 

Get Naked: Psalm 32-33

In America we thrive on choice.

We have the right to choose what clothes to wear, where to go to school, who to date, who not to date, and even what laundry detergent to use. But when it comes down to making the choice to live life intentionally and without secrets. To live a full and abundant life. To live the way we were actually created to live, we tend to make some pretty terrible choices.

Living in darkness seems easier.

I’ve been watching Netflix for three hours. The sun has gone down. It’s easier to sit in the dark than to walk less than three feet to the light.

But it’s this darkness that enslaves us. We hide out, burying hurts, sins, and shames in the dark places of our hearts.

Because it seems easier.

But is it?

Our God, our father, Abba, Love itself, knows what we’ve done already, so what do we really gain by trying to hide out? Let’s go back to the garden of Eden for a minute–that first sin; Eve and Adam were told what not to do, so of course being rebellious humans they did exactly that. But instead of confessing to one another and to God what they had done was wrong, they tried to hide it. Genesis 3:8 says that they heard the sound of God walking in the garden in the cool of the day so they hid among the trees. Of course this was after they’d tried to hide themselves with fig leaves in Genesis 3:7. Which is exactly how we try to hide and cover things up. We start with the surface. We paste a wooden smile on our face and when someone asks ‘how are you’? Our first response is always the same.

Fine.

No matter how NOT fine you are. You’re fine.

Maybe your best friend has just betrayed you. Maybe your dog is sick and you worry about her. Maybe your family is falling apart.

And still, you’re fine.

Because you’ve covered yourself with fig leaves.

I am the worst at this. For some reason when people ask me how I am I want to immediately say fine, even when I am far from fine. Partly to hide. Partly because I hate being the center of attention and partly because I feel so incredibly weak when I admit that I can’t handle things on my own. Right now, I’m dealing with about 5 different stressful situations all coming from different directions: work, family, personal, financial, etc. Some days I really am fine. Some days I’m not. But when anyone asks, I don’t really want to talk to them. It feels like a burden to share these things with people. But I’ve learned, especially in the past few weeks that sharing things with people, communicating, is really the only way to make it through certain situations. Because when you don’t have someone to weather the storm with, you get beat to a pulp. And getting struck by lightening is just really not great. I’ve got the split ends to prove it.

No one wants to be naked in front of others. There is a vulnerability that comes from that kind of exposure.

And so, you’re fine.

But most of us won’t just stop with surface hiding. We go deeper. We hide among the trees, especially if something in our life is not quite up to what our community might deem as ‘right’ or ‘good’. So when a friend comes walking toward us, in the cool of the day when we are supposed to be relaxing, maybe with a glass of wine on the back porch. Instead of listening to the cicadas, we recoil and hide. We miss opportunities to connect with people and feel love because we are hiding.

Our sin, our shame grows heavy. Our isolation may grow familiar, but it chokes us. It saps our strength. “When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer,” Psalm 32:3-4 laments. And if you’ve spent even five minutes in South Carolina during the summer…you know how quickly your strength can be sapped in the humid heat of summer. And we CHOOSE to live our life in this depleted state, all because we are too proud to admit that we need help.

That we need people.

That we need God.

Because unfortunately our lives have deadlines. So we can live in this eternal state of isolation and pain or we can set ourselves free as the Psalm suggests in 35:6: “Therefore let everyone who is godly pray to you while you may be found; surely when might waters rise they will not reach him.” Being with others, being with God offers protection and provides a place to hide and rest–: “for YOU are my hiding place!”

Darkness seems easier, but it’s exhausting. When things come into the light, that’s where true healing comes from. We choose God, but he also chooses us. And there is really no better choice to make than that.


“Blessed is the nation whose God is the LORD, the people he chose for his inheritance,” Psalm 33:12.


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