When I was sixteen, I found the perfect avenue for hiding my problems. I joined the church. It was then I began my journey of collecting my skeletons and shoving them in the biggest closet I could find–my heart. I walked around all smiles for years–my mask tightly glued on, all my life's heartbreaks, secrets, and tragic mistakes buried deep down inside me where no one would ever find them.
I put all my faith in the greatest lie I've ever been told. "if they knew about all your crap, all your mistakes, all your worst sins, then your life would be over. No one will ever love you and all your junk, too." And this lie held me captive for almost seven years.
During my freshman year of college I found a bit of hope in the raw, honest words of the musician Derek Webb. In an introduction to one of his songs, this speech struck me:
“If we’re really honest with ourselves, the Christian life is about how well we can learn to hide our sin…I think a lot of us, we think we will be able to measure the growth of our spirituality by how little we are sinning, or by how little we can convince everyone, ourselves included, how little we are sinning. But the Christian life is not about hiding! It’s not about living in fear! Gosh that’s what we all do though, is it not? We just live in fear that we’ll be found out. The best thing that could happen to any one of us, the best thing, is that your sin would literally be exposed on the five o’clock news…your deepest, darkest, most embarrassing sin, the one you’ve worked the hardest to hide…best thing that could happen to you, best thing that’d ever happen to me. Cause I am so weary, I am so tired of hiding my sin from people, of deceiving people about who I really am.”
I thought it was the best idea I'd ever heard–rip off the mask and show everyone who you really are. That's the only way we could truly be loved anyway, right? Cause people can't really love you if they don't even know you. This idea filled me with hope. I'd never heard anyone talk like that before. But really, it was just a pipe dream. He was just as tired of it as the rest of us, exhausted from hiding. But he still did it. At least I knew I wasn't alone anymore. All Christians hide. And until someone (else) exposes us that's just the way we are going to live–weary, broken people hiding behind a mask. I was hopeful that one day someone would expose me for who I really am.
Fast forward a few more years.
23 years worth of secrets, mistakes, and heartbreaks takes up quite a bit of square footage. The doors of my heart eventually started to splinter, the hinges breaking one by one, until those ancient wounds began to scream for a way out. I was suffocating. Was I going to have to rip the mask off by myself?
For the past year (2010-2011) I’ve battled with myself, the walls of my heart bursting at the seams, my closet full. The more time I spent with my Father, the louder his voice became. “There is no room for me in your heart. Get rid of this stuff. Let me in.” I walked around seemingly happy, but inside I was screaming. I tried to share my junk with people, but never quite got everything, or anything out. I was still holding on to that lie… "if they knew about all your crap, all your mistakes, all your worst sins, then your life would be over. No one will ever love you and all your junk, too."
Enter World Race Training Camp.
The first three days we spent listening to leaders talk about…
Sin
Wounds
Lies
Exposure
Declaration
Healing
Freedom.
It took me less than 24 of being at camp to realize that I had to expose myself or I was going to explode.
Exposure. It was an hour of sobbing and confession. There was lots of snot and tears. All my junk spilled onto the table. ALL of it. The deepest, darkest parts of me, the parts that I’d never even admitted existed…there they were, out in the open. My squad leader Caitlin held my hand, and full of grace and comfort, she listened and it felt like she was actually IN it with me. I didn’t have to carry all that weight by myself anymore. She didn’t run away. She wasn’t appalled or disappointed in me, and she didn’t call me down because I had failed in my obedience to God. She had compassion on me. She loved me.
That night I experienced true freedom for the first time in my life. The doors of my heart had been opened and all my secrets were out. The chains were broken. I finally knew the feeling of freedom. I’ve heard people talk about “freedom in Christ” and “breaking the chains of slavery” for YEARS. Yet I spent all that time believing the lie I had been told. I’m done with that lie.
The Christian life is not about hiding or denying where we’ve been, what we’ve done, or the pile of crap we’ve dealt with. It doesn’t matter which sins we’ve committed and how many times we’ve fallen away from the Lord. And when we stop focusing all our energy on hiding our imperfections, our mistakes, and our GIANT wrongdoings, we give God the room He needs to fill our hearts with His Spirit. Once we give Him reign in our hearts, we can finally fulfill the calling He gave us.
Now that I have experienced the power of freedom, I am confident in my true identity, which is hidden in Christ. But although I have freedom, I do not automatically live fearlessly. Every day I have to CHOOSE freedom over fear.
When I choose that freedom, I declare my identity in Christ. When I am certain of my identity in Christ, I act wrecklessly for the Kingdom. I start living outside of myself and my agenda. I begin to walk with my Father, and do His will. I renounce the spirit of fear and the Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is upon me…He has anointed me. He has spoken the good news of Freedom over my life, that I may proclaim the good news. And he has brought me out of my own darkness, that I might bring others out of their darkness!
The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners,
to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
–Isaiah 61:1-3a
