Have you ever felt foreign in your own body?
I had an image, it was safe. I enjoyed it that way. I don't like to stir the pot. I would rather wipe away your tears then cause them to fall. I have realized my heart is more controversial than I would like to admit. There are questions that I wish weren't there. There is a passion for something more too big for my mind to grasp. It has all become overwhelming. What happens when the girl you have defined yourself as is frozen in time? I know what she was like, her dreams, her cares, and her beliefs. Sometimes I wish I could go back to being the girl I was a year ago. Although, she had different struggles at that point in time. It seems life is a cycle of a variety of obstacles. I know who she is; I am watching her trying to catch up with all the changes. Maybe she hasn't been working on cardio with me because her pace is all too slow!
Have you ever been to a massage therapist? You walk in with aching muscles, a kink in your neck, and the desire to be fixed. You lay on a bed, feeling uncomfortably exposed. For a moment you can breathe and relax. Each muscles gets attention, working out every knot. The most refreshing kind of pain a person can experience. After walking out the kink is gone but there is a new pain sensation. The pain is assurance and rejuvenation. You may not be "fixed" but you are one step closer to feeling healthy again, like yourself.
My heart is lying on the massage table; with knots that I have been trying to get out on my own. It has a kink that I have been trying to ignore. Trying to hide, it doesn't fit with who I am, or who I was. Can I turn these questions into glory for my King? I can't, but I know that He can. Where is my hand to hold through the refinement? Who can remind me of the girl that was and who that girl is meant to be? Wide open and ready, let Him do work to this calloused heart. Not to be that girl again, but to be farther and wiser than whom she was. Not for the image but as a song of praise to His love. I broke out of comfort and it hurt; the box was paralyzing me in a different sense. I am to be defined only in the arms of Christ. I see useless coal in this heart but He see's gold, and promises to refine it to the purest form.
So I withstand the pain of massaging my heart; more weathered and more touched by his grace.
