There are some basic truths, some things we think we know, and maybe you do know them, but I think we don’t know them the way we should know them.
That sentence probably didn’t make any sense. Let me tell you a little more.
This morning I woke up in a bad mood. I hadn’t slept very well, but more than that I’d had an encounter the night before with a friend that left me unsettled. More than that, it left me angry.
I don’t know about the rest of you, but anger isn’t something I usually let myself feel, not fully, because frankly anger makes me lose control and losing control means that later I’ll have to apologize. And I don’t like being wrong, so I try to hang onto my control and give people the benefit of the doubt.
Now over the period of time called my life, this process has had a few different results, but usually it looks like me internalizing everything, pushing it down until I can’t feel it anymore, and calling that “fine.” Because if I can’t feel it hurting me, I can make myself believe that I’m not hurt.
Another benefit of this flawed little plan is that I can continue loving people and not have to have the hard conversations with them, explaining why and how they hurt me and where that comes from and how we can move forward from this together. Because that’s vulnerability and as I’ve mentioned before, vulnerability sucks.
So I put up more and more walls and mine fields and barbed wire and all kinds of other traps around my heart so that I have a fair warning to run away and hide when someone gets too close to me. Because if someone’s getting close enough to hurt me then maybe they’re close enough to be a real friend too, right? If I’ve given them the power to hurt me, then I must have seen something in them that I liked.
Or it could just be that in my flesh I’m a people pleaser and I want everyone to like me. A lot. I want to be everyone’s favorite.
Over the past eight months, one by one these walls I have around my heart have been revealed or pointed out to me and I’ve had the laborious task of tearing down those walls, brick by brick. But even before I do that, I have to really contemplate that wall and decide if I’m willing to take that wall down, because it’s not just the hard work of taking it down (vulnerability) but it’s also seeing everyone else’s reactions to this new person I’m being, the person I actually am. And those reactions usually make me want to put those walls back up again because maybe it’s lonely behind those walls, but I’ll tell you one thing, it feels a whole lot safer.
But when we do that, when I do that, I’m allowing myself to less of a person than I actually am. I’m depriving people of a chance to really love me for who I am. I’m depriving God of a chance to use all of me to reach someone else or work through me in ways that I’ve cut off.
Ouch.
Well, this friend of mine hurt me and I got angry. And I didn’t have a chance to talk to her about it immediately. So I tried handing over that frustration and what felt like righteous anger (it probably wasn’t). I didn’t understand why God wasn’t taking all of those emotions, why no matter how many times I tried to let him be in control, I was still struggling.
Looking back it’s because I wouldn’t have followed through and talked with my friend about it if he’d taken away the feelings. Because like I said before, if I don’t feel it, I can convince myself that I’m okay.
But anyway, here’s the really important part. I came to this crazy, radical, mind-blowing realization this morning. I was having my quiet time with God after I woke up still angry, just journaling and talking to God as you do. And something suddenly became stunningly clear to me.
I am worth it.
I am worth the fight it takes to make myself heard.
I am worth the effort it takes to be myself and to allow myself to be truly loved by others.
Maybe to you this seems obvious. It did to me. And yet it’s brand new too. I mean, wow, this is huge. This is big news to me. I feel a new sense of joy and invincibility.
Okay I’m going to try to explain this as much as I can because I want everyone to get this. I knew this fact. I knew that I am worth it, but I didn’t know it. It was one of those yes, but no answers and if you had asked me twenty four hours ago, I would have told you, yes, absolutely, I am worth it. But I think that was my head talking instead of my head with my heart. Because logically, I know what the Bible says, I know what my Father says about me and who I am. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he loves me, that he fought for me and he considered me worth fighting for, that he decided it was the best way to love me, to win me, by dying the most painful death known to man. Just so he could be with me forever, so he could ransom my soul.
Damn. If that doesn’t get you hype, check yourself real quick.
So I’m sure there are countless other truths that I believe in my head that I’m unaware my heart isn’t on board with yet, but I trust my Dad to show me those in time, as they coincide with his epic plan for my life.
And I know it’s really easy to look at someone else and to be able to say, yes, one hundred percent, you are worth it. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say that each of you reading this would say that to me. But here’s my question for you.
Would you say it to yourself?
In your lowest, most vulnerable moment, can you, do you believe that you are one hundred percent worth it? Do you believe you’re worth the fight and the effort put in to be treated the way you want to be treated? And even if you’re the only one who will treat yourself in that manner, is that enough for you? Is it enough that you and your Father believe this truth and will act accordingly?
In an age where everything, everything around us tells us that we’re not enough, that we can never measure up, but to keep trying in this failing pursuit, ask yourself, is it enough to know, to feel, that you are enough? That you measure up?
I know this is just one piece of the puzzle, that there are about . . . I don’t even know how many more pieces to it. Or it’s an onion with some number of layers yet to be peeled off. But I have this one piece. I have it and it’s bright and shiny and colorful and I’m so excited to have it! It’s like I had to go through all the other puzzles and search under the couch and through the dusty attic to finally find that piece. And I didn’t even know I was looking for it, but now I have it! And let me tell you, it feels incredible. Wow. God is so, so good.
Amen and amen.
So the point of me telling you this is not just so you can rejoice with me, but please, this is an invitation to do that too. But it’s also an invitation to ask yourself, actually take a minute and ask God, look deep within yourself and pose the question: Do I believe I’m worth it? Do I believe I’m worth everything Christ has done for me, worth everything Christ wants for me?
And if the answer isn’t one you like, please, please, please don’t let it stay there. Talk to someone, find your safe person, someone you can be vulnerable with, who’ll love you no matter what. Or talk to God, he’s great, just do whatever you have to do to see and believe that you’re worth it.
Okay, rant temporarily over.
Love,
TL 🙂
