When we are alone, the room behind this door is the coldest, darkest, and loneliest room we will ever inhabit. It's the room where we sit with all of the lies we believe, chief amongst them being, "I'm not enough." and in some cases, "I'm too much."
These are confusing beliefs if you also believe that you are a child of God and created in His image. "I am something other than what I should be" doesn't really seem like an idea God would build into His people. So, did we learn it somewhere? Where did we learn that?
Most of us don't have to look far to find potential, probable, or unmistakable places and times these loud-mouthed, lying seeds were planted in very fertile soil. I don't like to give the devil credit for much, but it seems he got around and didn't bother getting creative with the message.
Regardless of why or how those seeds took root and grew into patterns of thinking and ways of relating, they've become part of us. We will often do anything in our power to keep people from discovering the truth about the lies we believe, wrestle with, or operate out of.
Since opening up about my struggle with insecurity and fear of abandonment in my marriage, I've had the comfort of hearing a lot of "me toos". Sometimes, it looks exactly the same, sometimes different. But, whatever the particulars are, fear and shame are at the root of it.
Because my conversations keep circling back to the same things, because of the silent and devastating nature of the lies we believe, and because of our ever-increasing inability to get to places of honesty, vulnerability, and understanding, I want to invite you in and ask you to consider who you would like to invite in, as well.
That cold, dark, and lonely room is transformed by an open door, the light in the hall, and the presence of another.
As a guest in my room, I want you not only to know my fears, but to know what helps me live with and conquer them, too.
I believe God created us to be FREE. Free to choose thoughts, words, and actions.
Free to be fearless.
I believe that God has allowed the circumstances, which have fortified my imperfection. My imperfection/brokenness/weakness, is no longer something for me to fix, but a springboard to the One who can fix it, if He so chooses. I finally see my struggle as part of His Will and not something outside of it.
I have noticed something about the saints. Their prayers always boil down to the same thing. They want to love God, love His Will, and quite often, to love suffering.
So, I'm pretending to be a saint. I've copied a page out of their prayer book and am praying like they prayed. Lord, please grant me the grace to love You, Your Will, and to love suffering. Amen.
I cannot convey how dumbfounded I am by the results. Is it really possible that three simple prayers can transform a life? I think so...
I say this tentatively, as I'm only about a month in practice. I've been tried several times, but only mildly. I cannot remember the last time I've felt so fearless and free. If I could actually love suffering, I would no longer fear suffering, which means I could use all of the energy I spend to protect myself from suffering, to love others. And that sounds heavenly.
For the first time in my life, I am treating my insecurity like the spiritual battle it is. I am no longer asking for it to be removed or healed, but accept that it might be here to stay. God's will be done.
Any time I start down a road I don't want to be on or get stuck in a vortex of negativity, which looks like doubt, fear, suspicion, jealousy, resentfulness, worthlessness, etc... I call on Christ. I remind myself that feelings of fear and of being bound are contrary to what God desires for me, and it is time to suit up and step forward. I name what I'm feeling, renounce (refuse to recognize or abide by any longer), rebuke, and reject it in the name of Jesus, and cast it to the foot of the Cross, reclaiming the victory that has already been won over it. I don't have to do anything, but claim what has already been done.
In these moments, I see myself as a little girl wrapped around my Father's leg and clinging to it for dear life, pleading not for one more ride around the living room, but for peace and love for all that is good. I mean, have you ever tried to shake a kid off of your leg that is determined to take one more ride? It's like that...
And I'm okay with this.
Running away doesn't work. Looking back doesn't work. Introspection doesn't work. Ignoring it doesn't work. And looking to your spouse certainly doesn't work.
Looking up works. Clinging works. And once this sinks in...oh, man I hope this is sinking in...it seems like maybe, just maybe, Somebody has been trying to tell me this all along.
But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well.
Matthew 6:33
Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
Matthew 11:28
