I’m surrounded. Trapped. This circular brick wall encompasses me. Suffocates me all around. Fear and anger overtake me. I start to beat the wall senseless. My knuckles become scratched up and bloody. The walls doing more damage to me than I am to it. But I don’t cave. But I just can’t do this anymore.
Rage bubbles up from within me and all of it is spilling out uncontrollably. I take this axe and begin to chip at the wall. Nothing. I take a hammer and hit the wall as hard as I can. Nothing. The madness doesn’t stop. A scream erupts from me and seems to last for eternity. And then reality sinks in.
I can’t get out.
With every hit the wall takes, another scold or reprimand comes my way. “Stop thinking like that. Don’t have those thoughts. Be better. You should be focused on God. Why are you acting like that? Get yourself together.
You’re disgusting. You’re dirty.
Who thinks like that? Who would have perverted thoughts like that? And you say you believe in God. If you did then you wouldn’t have these thoughts. If you really believed God loved you, you would stop looking for it in guys. If you really believed God sees you then you wouldn’t want their attention.
If you really believed then you would stop struggling. If you really believed then you wouldn’t be trapped.
If you actually believed then you wouldn’t think these thoughts and be pure and holy. But you aren’t. You still want guys. You are still looking for love and admiration in places that aren’t God. You must be doing something wrong.”
And then the worst thing I hear comes; you will never be free. You will always struggle. You will always be trapped. You will always be just the way you are; pathetic.
And who would want that? Who would want and love someone so stupid? Certainly not God. And then shame begins to cover me from head to toe and my face falls. Because I actually believe it deep down. I believe I will always struggle and will never be free.
I back away from the wall, sit in the middle, and cry. More like sob. My heart hurts and feels as if it’s breaking into a million pieces. It’s all true. Isn’t it? If I really believed then I would stop struggling. But struggle I still do. And the walls mock me. Remind me of my imprisonment. Remind me that I’ll never measure up. Never meet the standard. Never get it right. Cold hard stone that won’t come down. And my anger seems to bounce off them and back at me. It never goes away. And it’s a cycle of being angry. Getting frustrated. It never leaves because it stays within these walls. This prison.
I want out. I want freedom.
That’s all I want. What I desire most. My freedom. To laugh and to cry. Freedom to make mistakes and screw up. Freedom from all the pressures everyone and everything throws at me. Freedom to be myself. The freedom to just be me. And that’s all I have to do. Be me.
But will I ever get that freedom? Will I ever break free from these daunting, unbreachable walls of untouchable standards? Walls of my own scoldings and reprimands. Walls of Satan’s continuous lies. Walls of lies I even tell myself. Walls of demands that never cease. Walls of unreachable perfection. Walls that scream and shout be enough.
But I can’t be. I’m not. I’m not enough.
I don’t meet those demands I can’t reach perfection. I don’t touch the standards. This wall tells me to be a good, perfect person. No mistakes. No flaws. No mess. And I’m all of that. I make mistakes everyday. Have tons of flaws. I am a mess in and of itself. I am broken. A broken, sinful, selfish human. And this wall tells me to not be who I am. To be the opposite. To be enough. But as I sit here, I realize that I’m just not. No matter what I do or how hard I try, I can’t. I can’t be enough and I never will be. So why am I trying to be something I’m not?
Why not accept the fact that I am broken? That I’m imperfect. To stop lying to myself and be real with who I actually am. Broken. Not enough. And in need of rescuing. Reality is, I can’t save myself. I can’t break down this wall. I just can’t…but God can.
BOOM
The wall starts to crumple all around me and falls to the ground. And God is standing on the other side. He always has been. Waiting for me to stop striving to be something I’m not and to sit and be who I really am. Because it made me see that he is enough. He can. He is perfect. He meets the demands. He meets the standards. He died so I didn’t have to. He is, so I don’t have to be. He took care of everything so I didn’t have to. He isn’t a wall trapping me in with expectations.
I am free because he brings me freedom. I am loved because he loves me. I am holy because he makes me holy. I am clean because his blood washes me so. I am desirable because he wants me. I am worth fighting for because he pursues me. And all that weight is off my shoulders and on the cross. He is enough so I don’t have to be.
And that, that’s what frees me.
