everything will be okay...

"So tell me that You'll never leave and everything will be okay..." Listening to these lyrics yesterday had me determinedly and discreetly wiping away tears from my stinging eyes. The strong and tangible presence of God was ministering to my heart and I resisted. It isn't (entirely) the presence of other people and their perception of me that causes me to retreat, it is predominantly due to my own warped views of what I deem weakness. Wanting simply to survive childhood with something of myself in tact, I was taught by trauma to be tough and guarded, suspicious and distrusting. I would not be vulnerable. I would not be broken. Submission was a dirty word that made me cringe. I had determined early on that to be strong is to be void of all visible emotion and I'd do my best not to put on public display what was private. I am admittedly my harshest critic and have knowingly treated myself with all the grace of a drill-sergeant and this instance was no exception.

Truth is, I am destructively harsh on myself. Painfully, I have come to see that I myself have continued a cycle of abuse in my life, something not easily admitted. I have silently and viciously assaulted myself repeatedly over the years. I have mentally and emotionally and verbally berated myself for simply being human, for being an emotional female, and too often for simply being me. The painful irony is that I can't stand and can hardly tolerate this in others, especially women. I am often the first to demand that a woman not apologize for being who she authentically is, in her most real and raw form. I hear my voice say, "your tears are beautiful" to others, yet not the dialogue or grace I extend myself, after all, "I'm a Christian. I'm not supposed to feel like this." I get that we as Believers are not to be led by our feelings, I absolutely do not dispute that. Being led and controlled by feelings is not only immature, it's a highly dangerous road to travel. But I also know that hiding, burying, and sweeping them under the rug in no way brings freedom. Freedom from darkness comes when exposure to Light happens.

God understands that the abandonment I experienced as a child STILL causes me to sometimes treat Him with the same distrust as any other man I encounter, but He doesn't deserve that. I understand it is in our weakness that the strength of God is perfected, but I find myself loathing my weakness more often than unloading it and I want to change. This armor protected that innocent girl, but suffocates the woman I am. So, maybe God doesn't need my dry eyes, brave face, squared shoulders and my jutted-out chin all the time. Maybe He doesn't need me to appear tough and fierce and strong all the time. Maybe I can just be His little girl. Truth is, right now there are a lot of things that I'm unsure of, scared of, and anxious for. I know I shouldn't feel this way and if someone cares to judge me or condemn me for admitting this that's understandable, but I have decided that I can NOT do that to myself anymore! I'll drop the first stone. I'm greatly flawed and highly imperfect but also fiercely loved. And miraculously it's admitting my great weakness and need for Him that ironically becomes the place where I am truly MADE strong and courageous. I am undone and exposed and needy. My heart is cautious but it's also open and responsive and I am asking Him to strengthen me to keep it that way. I'm that little girl all over again who hears His voice speaking through her fear, "Trust me and let me love you. I'll never leave you, I promise. I'll never forsake you and I refuse to fail you. I'll NEVER leave, breathe. Everything will be okay..."