Jericho

Freshly falling snow;
Cleansing the struggle of Spring,
that new life breaks forth.

--

Today I'm taking a little break from my India posts, not that I'm not praying for India, or because I don't want to challenge you to do the same, but because I have hit a wall of struggle that I feel needs to be aired, that it may come tumbling down. Like Jericho, I feel I have marched around and around this wall again and again. It feels futile to keep walking. I hear the enemy holler, "Keep walking, but you won't knock down our wall!" Still, there's a promise that it's coming down, and so I will keep walking until the promise has been fulfilled. 

My struggle is with intimacy. I am terrified of it on all levels. I have come to a realization that whenever I find myself in a relationship or friendship with anyone, I come to a certain point, and stick my arm out warning, "Don't come any closer." I compartmentalize my life. I know where I fit, what role I play in every friendship I have. My duty is to fulfill that role, and to prevent any further attachment to be built. When conflict arises, I take a deep breath, pull back my emotions, and cut-ties, deciding that friendships are seasonal, real relationships don't last forever, so it is better this way. This is the natural course of events. I build up walls, wearing a glassy-mask half-truth of what I'm really feeling and going through, enough to let others see the chaos of my life, but not enough so that they can see I am truly dying inside. Instead, maintaining a facade of love and compassion, I run around, going crazy, asking people how I can help them. What do they need? Thinking maybe if I keep striving to give them what they want, then maybe I will do something right and all my struggles will disappear. 

The truth? If I were to lay down that facade, a truly broken person would be seen among the chaos. A person that can barely help themselves and in running here-and-there asking "how can I help you," is really running from her own struggles and praying, "God! See me!" However, running around, forgetting to sit and listen, the only voices I hear are the lies that say "Keep trying, maybe you'll be good enough someday." "If you just do this or that maybe you can prove yourself worthy of love." Hopeless. Insecure. I wake up in the morning in anxiety, fearing people and their opinions. Going to bed, my panic sings me to sleep a lullaby of everything that I could have done wrong and the little aspects of me that may have offended someone that day. Agonizing condemnation envelopes me until I'm to the point of tears. 

But big girls don't cry. Crying is for babies, so I will hide them in the cavity of shame inside my heart, alongside the feelings of anger, sadness, weakness, and shame itself. To be anything, but happy, to be joyful is a shame and so it will sit upon the shelf inside my heart that I have boxed inside a wall saying I am strong. I will not show weakness. I will not show fear, because to show fear is to show a lack of trust and to not trust is the biggest sin of all. So I will hide, and instead of trusting with my lack of trust, I will hide behind what appears to be dependency and surrender, meanwhile building up walls, because again, relationships are seasonal. Rejection is inevitable. Friends are not forever. Therefore you cannot trust anybody. 

However, what were to happen if I were to trust? What if I were to lay down my defenses and be exposed with the truth of who I really am? What if I let my fear be known. My weakness shown along side my shame, sadness, and anger. What if I actually could cry and be seen? 

Could maybe something be broken?Could maybe I find that though I still must grow and have a long way to go, the song that sings me to sleep is peace and when I wake up is joy.? Could I maybe find that people and their opinions do not matter, because I have found security and hope in the love of my Abba, Father? 

Sitting still, listening I hear his voice saying "You are loved. I am enough, and that completes you. I see you." Putting on the love, learning how to be loved, be known with my vulnerabilities laid bare. I find that there is peace. It is okay to be me, even if me is not okay. But even in the chaos, there is peace, because I am not alone. I have laid down my walls. And I will cry. I will cry my tears, because they are a cleansing of my soul. The releasing of my built up emotions. No, crying is not just for babies. Crying is a sign of strength. It is a symbol of bravery to actually feel the human emotion in all it's capacity. To be enveloped in a sea of overwhelming hopelessness an to survive, so I will cry. 

A rest, so sweet, sweeps over me as I find my striving cease and I am okay. Surrendering to the love of the Father, I find I can surrender to others. Be open. Be broken. Be vulnerable. And they care. Receiving love and compassion, I find that I am filled with genuine care and compassion for others. A cyclical cycle, putting to death the striving to be perfect, to be brought to life in a rest that transforms to perfect love, a love that lasts. A love that is patient, kind. A love stronger than death, and thus lasts forever. I no longer hold people at an arms length, because I come to recognize that it's awkward to give an arms-length hug. Embracing that I am broken and weak. I embrace community and find myself emptied into intimacy, both with the Lord, and with others. 

We love, because he first loved us. - 1 John 4:19 

I'm not there yet. This is still a battle, but as I allow myself to be embraced by the love of the Lord and allow others to embrace me as I really am, with all my brokenness and need for growth, I'm one step closer to Jericho falling and being perfected in love.