I have feared blogging about this. I’m not naïve to know who reads my blogs, and who can connect the dots. But God keeps putting it on my heart, and so I have no other option but to listen. Perhaps this will offer healing to another, perhaps even more to myself… But God also reminded me that this isn’t my story as much as it is His:
In my psychology class we learned that there are two types of people: the fighter and the fleer. I am a fighter. If there’s a problem I run to it like bugs to light. Conflict. Standing up for myself. Strong woman.
The Race, for some people seems to be a temporary haven to run away from your problems, for me it never was. I thought I was over the big things that have happened. But regardless, they ask us to “step into our brokenness.” For me this seemed odd. I’d never say I was perfect, but I also didn’t think I was carrying around a big burden. But I also wondered, how could I face my demons without them being there?
Perhaps there’s an in between in the fighting and the fleeing.
Long story short, I fell in love in college, to a man I gave nearly everything to. I travelled the world to be with him, I gave gifts, sent letters. I worshipped him. Little love was returned, I felt worthless…for 6 years. While things had eventually gotten better, there was always parts of me that wanted to see him again to prove that I wasn’t chained to him any longer. That I could face him and be strong. The fighter in me needed clarification and wanted to face my problems, how was I to know it was gone?
I think that’s what made it hard for me to buy into the brokenness part of the Race- how could I get over things if I wasn’t facing them?
Rewind to Ecuador: God told me in listening prayer that I needed to walk through a dessert so that He could bring me to His oasis. Peru was a literal desert, and a spiritual one in which He and I just didn’t seem to connect.
The first day in Bolivia I went for a run and popped my mp3 player tunes in my ears. Song after song came on from my college years. Songs of angry girls talking about the boy who did her wrong. Songs about missing someone. Songs about being in love. Funny thing happened when they played: I either had no emotion at all to the angry ones, or the songs about love made me think of Jesus, my family, or my God-centered relationship with my supportive and loving boyfriend. It was only minutes later that I realized that the songs I used for years to release my emotions no longer carried the same weight as they used to. Moments later I looked up at my view: I saw grass for what seemed like the first time, snow-topped mountains, and wild flowers filling my yard, my lungs filled with oxygen (despite the high elevation); I knew God had brought me to my oasis. I became completely overwhelmed with feelings of being loved, and healed. I felt chains break off, I felt freedom. I was brought to my knees in joy.
We look for healing and forgiveness in the wrong things. I thought I was over my idol, but instead found I was still holding onto him, depending on him for a sort of freedom and healing. Yet, I didn’t need him standing right in front of me to know I was over him. I didn’t need to fight. I didn’t need to run. I needed to face Jesus, and simply ask for His healing. Healing happens in the heart, and in God’s presence, and does not depend on anything or anyone else.
Seek out your idols. Stop fighting them. Stop running from them. Is it the chocolate filling your cabinets? The boyfriend who consumes your every thoughts? Security? Money that seems to dictate your every move? Your kids whose trophies line your hallways and dominate your conversations?
Ask to be released from them. Ask instead to be consumed by Him.
Now I’m travelling the world for Him. My gifts are my time, and my journal contains love letters and words of a life lived for Him. I am loved, and I am worthy.
For more photos from Bolivia, click here.
