I was in bondage. Chains.
I never thought I would say that. Because who wants to admit they are a slave?
But I was. I was a slave to fear.
And fear is a hard master. It was with me constantly, gripping me, tormenting me, and controlling everything that I did.
I was afraid of people. I was afraid that they wouldn’t like what they saw if they knew who I really was. I was afraid they would push me aside, and reject me. I was afraid that they would see who I truly was, and hate me for it.
So, I tried to be other people. People who, to me, looked accepted, and loved.
I tried to be talented like them. Or pretty like them. Or kind like them. Or, well you get the idea.
I tried to put different qualities that I liked about people on myself, so I could be loved and accepted like them.
Because in truth, I didn’t see any of those things in myself.
I became obsessed with being perfect, so that people would like me. I would look at pinterest to pick out an outfit. Because the girl in the picture looked good in it, and pretty, and happy. So that’s what I would wear. I would practice for my extra-curricular activities for hours at a time, (hours) because I had to be as good as this person or that person. I would beat myself up for eating a full meal because I needed to lose weight for people to like me (that never really worked, cause I love food). I would beat myself up for saying something stupid, so I just told myself not to talk. I became quieter, more reserved, and shy. Something that I had never been before. I was also afraid people would think I was mean, so I had to be the kindest, nicest, most loving person anyone knew. And if I said anything that made me appear differently, you guessed it. I beat myself up over it.
The last few months I began to notice that something was wrong. I dreaded social events, even church. I was anxious, grumpy, fidgety, and miserable all the time. Every time I spoke with someone, I would feel rejected. That I wasn’t worth liking anyways, or no one would ever love me, or I wasn’t worth their time. I actually spoke these things over myself multiple times. I would cry myself to sleep at least 3-4 times a month. And I stayed in my room a lot, which just further proved (in my mind at least) that I was alone in the world. That no one loved me. And that I was a horrible person. I wished so many times to be this or that. To be like this person, or that person.
I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I needed to change something. I had tried everything I could to change who I was and I always felt miserable. So I had no idea what I could do differently. You can imagine this made any kind of ministry very difficult.
The second day my team and I were in El Salvador, God told me He wanted to heal me. I got angry. I was here to help other people. To forget about my troubles and past issues, not deal with them.
So, I went about my days. Unfortunately, God knows what he is doing. He gave my team and I a month of slow ministry. Our tasks for the month were to weed the garden, and to paint the walls of the church classroom. We usually weed for the first two hours after breakfast, then we stop because it gets too hot to work in the sun. So, I had about 2 hours of free time till lunch. Then we would paint after lunch. And we had church twice a week, and the orphanage once a week. Well, we finished the painting part I was helping with in about two days. This gave me even more free time. (yay…) I spent a safe amount of time with God, and sat for a little while. But when I was sitting, I would start to beat myself up about this or that, so I had to find something to do. Deciding to make the most of my time, I watched movies. My teammates had brought some movies on hard drives, so I got some that I wanted. I didn’t have to think, or beat myself up, or anything. It was great.
But again, God knows what He is dong. And He’s very good at it.
As I was praying one day, God told me I was watching too many movies, and He wanted me to take a week long fast from electronics. So, no movies. I was reluctant, but finally agreed. Knowing full well what this week would hold.
That first day was the worst. It was rest day. All I could think about was how much I didn’t need or want rest. I think I actually told my team mate Kaitlyn that I was going to cry, I was so bored. I actually ended up watching a movie that day. ( I know, bad…) But I told myself it was rest day, which meant resting from everything, even the fast I just started.
It was hard. I had to constantly fight myself, and fight the urge to run away. (a.k.a. watching a movie) I did spend more time with God, which is good. But I couldn’t seem to get anywhere. I thought I was doing good, and that all my troubles with fear were in the past. But every once in a while, something someone said would trigger it again. And I would feel rejected and defeated for the rest of the day.
Before the week was even up, my team felt that God was calling us to another week of fasting. I knew this is what God was calling me to do, so I decided to prepare for another week. I spent a lot of time praying and seeking God, this time much less reluctantly. Each day our team picked a person, and prayed for them to see what God had for them. It was so encouraging to be able to see how much God cares for His children. And each one in a different way.
That week God showed me that I was afraid of people because I didn’t feel like they loved me. And unfortunately, that translated to God too. I didn’t believe that He loved me. I knew it, but I didn’t believe it. So, God wrote me a letter. Yep. It’s called listening prayer. (I encourage everyone to try it out) Listening prayer is where you listen to God, and write down whatever you think He is saying. So, I listened to God, and as I was listening, He just showed me what to write. It was the first time in my entire life, that I could actually feel God’s love for me. I started crying. Bawling actually. It was definitely a staple in my relationship with God. I asked God to heal me. And He asked me to let Him in my heart, and to let Him heal me. He asked me to go through all the times I felt hurt by people, and ask for healing. And then when I was done with that, He asked me to go through and forgive them, and pray blessing over them. It was so freeing.
I already feel less afraid of people. I met two sweet little girls at the orphanage, and wasn’t afraid to talk with them, even with the language barrier. When we got back to the church we are staying at, I realized what had just happened. I had felt no fear. I felt free. And I felt alive.
Obviously, I’m still working on this, it might be a constant battle. I don’t know. But God is my healer. And He is good at it.
God also gave me my name. Warrior. Because He said I will fight for His people. Who would have guessed? A girl, who was a slave to fear almost all her life. But God has healed me. And I am His warrior.
