Something incredible happens on the world race. You follow a call and come in as a vessel ready to be used. You gain a family in ten days of training and get coached on the freedom that comes with vulnerability. You get a team of people who you will spread the gospel with in your first country and launch a month later. You are bright eyed and bushy tailed, so excited to share the message of sacrificial love that changed your life.
You swap testimonies with your team and you let them in on a deep struggle of yours. You mention anxiety. Just as the word leaves your mouth, you box it up with explanations of its roots and causes and hide behind a sense of self awareness that proves that you are in complete control of it. You tuck the box away and out of reach of anyone else. You didn’t see it then but defenses are up. I got this.
But you are hiding a secret. What they don’t know is that thing you have boxed up that you are holding behind your back, you are terrified of. Terrified of it because you really are not in control of it. Terrified that it would show. Really show.
Terrified that it would show in a way where you could not hide behind head knowledge. Terrified that it would steal your breath again. Steal your thoughts. Steal your sleep. And if it did show, no one would understand. They wouldn’t want you anymore. They would be annoyed, burdened and frustrated. You would be condemned, rejected, abandoned, shamed.
As time passes, the box leaks. It leaks as things happen that you had no control over. You are pushed out of your comfort zone. You hurt someone on your team, you make mistakes etc. People start seeing things you never intended for them to see. You scramble to conceal it again. It’s really leaking though. The more people you get close to, the more people see it. You can’t hide it anymore. The more out of control it feels, the more you want to run.
You hate it. You hate how you understand most of it, but cannot conquer it. You hate how you cycle. You hate how it’s sometimes hard to focus. You hate that people can see it. You hate how you might need help with it.
The lid of the box slips and starts to spill over in random moments. In a grocery store, during worship, on a bus ride, during ministry. You are overwhelmed. Everyone can see it. Fear takes over and you can just hear what people are probably thinking. She is too much, she doesn’t make sense, she can’t help herself, she’s a lost cause, I am over this, she just wants attention, why can’t she just stop thinking.
You close your eyes and hide your face, just waiting to be shamed and rejected. Expecting frustration. Waiting to see that people don’t want you anymore.
I am so frustrating. I should just go. No one wants this, why would they? You decide to open your eyes and all of those lies and thoughts are quieted by the sight of them all…still there.
Still there willing to listen, still there willing to walk alongside you, willing to sit with you, willing to pray. Staring back at you with unwavering and loyal eyes.
They even say three words that go in your ears, but take 11 months to land in your heart. I love you.
You realize that they are there because they are compelled with love for you.
For eleven months, this cycle continues. You realize you can’t do it alone, what you wanted to hide is exposed, you expect condemnation and rejection, but someone with actions or words speak an “I love you” into and around that box that breaks another chain of bondage.
Something begins to shift.
Maybe the love they are showing you is genuine and not obligatory. Maybe there is something to love about you that is more than the anxiety that you face. Maybe you have it wrong. Maybe you have been hiding way longer than you realized. Maybe it’s really true what people have been telling you all year. Maybe that is not who you are or who you have been created to be.
Maybe you identify so closely with what you struggle with, that you hate yourself. Maybe you don’t love yourself well at all. Maybe you don’t think someone should, unless you can change. Maybe that breaks God’s heart.
Maybe you had knowledge of the cross, but never really experienced the healing power of love that hung on it.
Maybe God loves you more completely and deeply than you ever knew. Maybe he led you through the fire to refine your mind to only trust and stand on things He would think about you. Maybe exposing that box was the most loving thing He could have ever done for you.
Maybe you had a false perspective of what kind of Father He is. Maybe His tone of voice toward you is never condemning. Never annoyed, impatient or frustrated. Maybe He wants to hold you close. Maybe you really are deeply loved and secure in his embrace.
Maybe your mind is beautiful. Maybe you are worthy of love. Maybe it is time to admit that is hard for you to really believe. But you finally see it.
Maybe it’s okay to be where you are at. Maybe it’s okay to end the world race a little more broken down than when you started. Maybe it’s time to go home and sit with the people that you spent years running from, and let them love you.
Maybe it is time to commit another year to the Lord…in a different way.
A commitment to sit still. A commitment to learning what true vulnerability is. A commitment to transform your mind by renewing it with scripture. A commitment to give all of your heart over to only Him, everyday. A commitment to serve your community. A commitment to fight for your family.
To Mom, Dad, Sarah, Jenn, Michael and Brittany Davie. I am sorry. I am sorry for the times I shut you out. All of them. The times I ran. Thank you for always being there even when I hurt you and didn’t look back. I love you.
To my supporters. How can I ever thank you for believing in me and praying for me for an entire year. I think back to a year ago and seeing the emails that flooded in, supporting of the call I felt. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. This year changed my life. Missions are now inscribed on my heart and I want to continue missions in some capacity in the next couple of years. For now, if you feel compelled, support my sister Jenn who feels called to YWAM. She is a star.
To Wonder Church. Thank you for changing my life. All of you. Seriously every single one has either spoken a message of love into my heart or shown me a deeper side of the Lord’s heart through how you serve and follow Him. All of you are so special to me. If anyone comes to San Diego hit me up.
Also a deep and special thank you to those specific people that walked through this with me and fought for me all year. The people that really saw the parts of me that I hated most, but spoke love and truth over me. Over and over. The people that really challenged me and did not let me stay where I was. That people that were still there. Thank you for showing me a love that has profoundly and irreversibly impacted me.
So, what’s next?
1. Coming home and spending time with family.
2. Praying about jobs for the year. Earning and saving money.
3. Dreaming about next steps with the passions the Lord has ignited in my heart this year.
4. Healing and resting. Reading the word, listening to God in prayer, asking for help.
5. Serving. Serving the community where there is a need.
