Seven days is all it took for God to break me, heal me and set me free. Seven days tucked into the mountains of Tennessee. Seven days of missionary training for the World Race. So many things happened in these seven days: I learned to share meals with eight people from one plate, eating most meals with my hands. I learned to always have toilet paper on hand because there was never enough. I learned that I packed too much even after checking the packing list three times. Most importantly, I learned that my capacity to love was limited because a portion of my heart was still hardened, leaving the Spirit unable to fill all of me. That is when God broke me.
On the first full day of camp, guest speaker Dr. Ron Walborn, a Pastor, Professor and Dean, spoke to all 250 plus World Racers about grieving, forgiveness and healing. He talked about Worldly healing: hiding in denial, becoming bitter and angry or turning to addictions to avoid the pain. Then he told us about Biblical healing: giving ourselves proper time to grieve, verbalizing our pain so it isn’t trapped inside of us and listening to one another without trying to “fix” the problem. Dr. Walborn said that when we Biblical grieve we allow ourselves to feel freedom, we increase our emotional capacity to handle what is left to come with a softer heart and we become proactive (not reactive) to our experiences.
That afternoon we broke into small groups within our squads to Biblically grieve, forgive and start the healing process. It was raw, it was difficult and I, without emotion, kept the same sugar coating on the experience that held the hardened portion of my heart captive.
Years ago, before I became a Christian, the intimate feelings between a boyfriend and I reached a level that no longer felt comfortable. I asked my partner to stop, but he didn’t. I said to him again, “Please stop,” but he wouldn’t. I pushed at his chest towering over me, but he was too strong. He pinned me down until he was finished. My heart broke into pieces as my pleads turned into whispers. I cried until tears stopped forming.
For years I tucked it away. I couldn’t call it what it was. I convinced myself it wasn’t as bad as I remembered. I loved him and he would never do anything intentionally to harm me. But my trust changed and my ability to be intimate all but disappeared. Almost no one knew what happened and if anyone did they got the sweetened version because I was not a victim. Being a victim meant I was weak, vulnerable and defenseless. I wasn’t any of these.
As the afternoon went on at camp the feeling of pain started to well up inside of me. While my squad packed up and moved to another campsite I began to cry. I sucked it up, like always, and focused on the tasks ahead. But when worship came Sunday night I could no longer hold it in. I slipped outside during worship and began to sob. My buddy, coaches and four other teammates (two of whom where in my grieving group earlier) sat down beside me as I wept. I knew that one word was holding me back, the one word I refused to say. I was raped. The moment I said that word, Pappy (one of my coaches) asked me to say it again. Each time I was able to say the word a piece of the hardened spot in my heart crumbled and fell to the ground.
I would have never believed how much space that one word took up in my heart if it wasn’t for the days that followed. The Holy Spirit filled me with a compassion, love and humbleness I have never experienced. I was praying deeper than I have every before, I was hearing God’s voice clearer then ever before and I was worshipping with a sincere heart.
This entry isn’t meant to scare you, make you mad, or have you worry over me because God’s already taken care of it. I just want you understand the value of my words when I say, “It is not worth holding onto the moments you felt hurt, alone or scared. It is not worth living in fear. It is not worth believing you are stuck in your sin.” You are missing the capacity to love fully, serve intentionally and be filled with abundant joy. I know it isn’t easy to be this vulnerable, honest and real, but God will bless you tremendously.
I have never felt so vulnerable and yet I have never felt so free.
