By my nature, I’m a crier. I am a big old softy that cries at books, movies, paintings, songs, and the occasional Budweiser commercial. About 2 years ago, after going through a thoroughly tumultuous transition into adult life, it seemed that I had cried myself out. The well had run dry. All of a sudden I would feel the urge to cry or recognize something as one of my steady tear jerkers but still nothing, my eyes remained bone dry. I can count on one hand the amount of times I really cried over the span of two years.
With all that in mind, I was curious to see how training camp would play out. Things like this are always supposed to come with tears but I remained unconvinced. My eyes were broken. Maybe I would have one good cry but I didn’t think I had it in me to break the dam that had been building for years. Oh how wrong I was… a series of prayer experiences was about to begin dismantling all the walls that had formed a fortress around my heart.
Our first morning, my resolve buckled. At morning praise and worship I started to really struggle with all of my fears of incompetence. I was so scared of being a disappointment to God, never living up to who He needed me to be. I was in the midst of wrestling with the question of “what is holiness and how do I get there?” In that moment the worship leader shifted gears and said that he felt God wanted to say something to us, “You are holy. You are worthy. And I’m in love with you.” And here we have the first round of tears.
A couple of nights later I was sitting in the back of prayer, wondering if God noticed how hard I tried – if anything I had done even mattered. Sure, I had remained loyal and grown in my love and knowledge of Him but someone afforded all of the opportunities I have should be more and do more. I can always hear the lyrics of Penny & Sparrow in the back of mind: Figuring out I’m not who I swore that I would be by now. All this insecurity aside, I did try but I still tended to feel like the forgotten child. Then one of my trainers came to my side and shared a message He gave her for me, “You have never been overlooked. His gaze has always been upon you. Even in a crowd He sees you. Even as you walk His gaze has never once left you. You have never been overlooked.” More tears.
Another night after that, knowing one of my biggest roadblocks was how much I craved the approval of others and staked so much of my worth in their opinions, I was seeking freedom and relief from this chain. I prayed, hoped, and waited for that feeling of relief to signal the breaking of the chains… but nothing came. My frustration grew when I realized that love is not about feeling, it’s about choice. So I made my prayer a declaration. I chose to make His opinion the only one that mattered in my life, to stop seeking my validation from people and things I know can never fulfill me. Then the same trainer from before came up to me and told me she had an image of rope wrapped around my feet and the Lord had just ripped it off. Cue the waterworks.
These are just a few examples of 10 very tearful, life changing days. We walked through crosses that all of us bear: unforgiveness, shame, intimacy, identity, and more. I am continually amazed at the way God unrelentingly pursues my heart. He is always coming for me – for all of us. And He won’t stop. We just need to stop binding the surgeon’s hands and let Him get to work.
“If you could only let your guard down, You could learn to trust me somehow, I swear, that I won’t let you go, If you could only let go your doubts, If you could just believe in me now, I swear, that I won’t let you go, I won’t let you go.” –Switchfoot, I Won’t Let You Go
