I remember freshmen year looking forward to basketball season because I wanted people to know me as, “the basketball player”. My mama always said, “let your actions speak louder then your words”. So I wouldn’t tell anyone but once basketball season rolled around, everyone would know.. Sounds super conceited.. right?! Yes.. yes it was. I got ready for basketball season and then the unthinkable happened. I broke my arm. Yes.. completely broke it. Snapped it in half, broke it. Had to have screws put in it, kind of broke it. So needless to say, I was no longer going to be known for basketball. Crap.
So I looked for something else to find my identity in. I started finding it in guys. If guys liked me then I was a cool/fun/laidback person. The more guys that liked me, the better. I would lead guys on just for the satisfaction of knowing they liked me. I was so proud of my personality.
One day though, this was all shattered. Someone turned around to me and said, “Emily, guys only like you because of your body.” Yep. That hurt.
I honestly just took a step back. I looked back at the past and saw every guy who had ever looked at me and thought, “I am an object.” That’s all I would ever be to guys.
Pastors would get up and say, “Girls! Guys only want one thing!” I believed it. I was told that. So the thought became even more ingrained in my thoughts, “You are an object.”
Then I met this guy. A guy who showed me I was more then just an object. That it wasn’t just about appearance that it was about the heart and personality, but most importantly about the LORD. God started mending my heart through this relationship.
Coming on the Race I’ve stood out a lot because I am white… and I have blonde hair… and blue eyes. Guys love whistling, calling out at me, waving, blowing kisses, taking pictures while I’m laying out in a swimsuit (WR approved, one piece swimsuit that couldn’t show anything even if I wanted to), and one time in Africa a man literally barked at me.. not sure what that meant, but guessing not good? I think that hardest thing for me was one time in Rwanda a man told Zac he’d pay nine cows for me.. while I was flattered (I guess), the man hadn’t even said a word to me, he just looked at me. Object. (In case you were wondering, Zac did not sell me!)
This is what happened. I had pushed down those feelings and been dating someone who didn’t make me feel that way so I thought I was over everything but coming on this trip has brought up all those feelings again.
Recently I had been getting so frustrated with the men. Every morning on our walk to church we walk through this group of men waiting for buses or work or something and I watch them stare at us. Very rarely are they looking at my face and as we pass their look shifts and follows our butts (sorry, Mama Clem). It’s honestly so objectifying.
The other day Satan started telling me lies. I was so hurt and let what he said get to me. I went running with a teammate and it was so bad. The guys were calling at us and honking their horns and saying “good evening” with a smile that said everything they were thinking. I was running and I was getting so angry. Who do these men think they are? Why do they think this is okay? How would they feel if they were me?!
Jesus said, “Emily. Look at me.” I realized that through the anger and frustrated and being told I was just an object I had let my head fall. I realized I was looking directly at the ground. Jesus said, “Emily, look at me.” I resisted because of insecurity. I didn’t want to see what the guys were looking at or hear what they were saying or watch them point.
“Emily…” It was like He reached down from heaven and slowly lifted my chin. It was such a sweet moment. He said it with such a gentle and loving spirit. I felt like He was actually looking down at me.
Jesus said, “You’re mine and you’re beautiful.”
He gave me this vision of Him standing in between the men and me, so He was all I could see. He looked at me like a loving father would to his little daughter. Jesus spoke words of love over me and He showed me his heart. A heart that would allow His son to die so his daughter would experience freedom. He didn’t die so I could walk around in bondage.
What are you carrying around? He died so you wouldn’t have to. Be free and leave your chains right where you stand.
I went on this race with the words, “Breaking chains” as my anthem. I thought I would be helping others break chains but I’m realizing, that phrase was more for me then anyone else.
