And sometimes it's hard because the whole point of this was for me to be transparent and open with my life. And sometimes I just don't want to be.
This is week 4 of counseling school for me. The last two weeks have been spent going very deep into wounds from the past. Some days reluctantly, some days willingly. I definitely signed up for counseling school knowing that my heart would be touched, and it might hurt. I knew that I would have to revisit the past. The past that shaped me, and changed my personality, and gave me experiences I didn't want, and caused me to run like mad toward the only power capable of turning that kind of pain into something beautiful. The One that turned water into wine at a wedding to save embarrassment, is the one that could expose my wounds, then heal them, all without embarrassment or shame.
Exposing a wound hurts. It's messy, and makes you feel vulnerable. I have had my hands over my wounds, protecting them. I have kids, I KNOW WHAT HAPPENS AFTER A WOUND IS EXPOSED. It has to be cleaned. What will happen? Will it hurt? How long will it hurt? What if it hurts worse to clean it than just to keep it hidden and dirty? So I was mulling all this over about how pitiful my wounds were, how broken my heart is, and how sad, and all that comes with this part of healing. I got to the point that I was so tired of thinking about my past, and my wounds, that I just wanted to stop. I felt selfish. I was just ready for it to be over, and get on with something else, this stuff will go away on it's own, in time....then I knew I couldn't keep running. I knew I needed to peel my hands away from my heart, and look at it. I needed a good reason for why stuff happened to me, and why I was still hurting, and I needed evidence that God sees me, and cares about my wounds. I found myself asking the question "Why didn't God protect me?" A lot. And that's a scary thing to question. Especially when you are in missions....
Then I read Isaiah 53. It's mostly about how Jesus grew up a tender shoot, wasn't beautiful, in fact the exact words are, "He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. It also says "like one from whom men hide their faces". But it's this next part that went straight to my heart and caused my hands to fall, and lay my wounds open before my healer...... "He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering." If that isn't enough...to think of Jesus, who lived to love only, was despised and rejected? Even if you aren't into Christianity, come on....that's pretty awful. Who could hate Jesus? Ahh!! Anyway, it goes on to talk about how he carried our sorrows, and was pierced for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities, (which can also mean injustices) and THE PUNISHMENT THAT BROUGHT US PEACE was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed....
I wrote down the terrible things that have been said to me, and things that have affected me. The words that play like a broken record in my head. Words that brought such hurt to my heart. Words that won't let me receive a compliment, or believe anything good about myself. My wounds. I left them on the cross. As religious as that may sound, that is really what I did. There was a cross, and I put my papers on it. I cried and cried and cried and asked why, and tried to explain to God that I have a tender heart, and that he shouldn't have allowed such things to happen to someone with a tender heart. Tender this, tender that. Tender Shoot. WAIT A MINUTE! Jesus was a tender shoot! He was hurt, rejected, and crushed. And he loves me. He knows the pain of verbal abuse. He knows the pain of loss and rejection. And he loves me. My wounds were being cleaned. They were being cleaned by someone that knows how it hurts, so much care is taken....
My tears dried up finally. I do mean FINALLY. Later on someone talked to me about how I needed a "platform of truth" or I wouldn't finish up this healing. (My first thoughts were "WHAT THE HECK IS THAT?") Now that I cleaned out all that hurt, I needed to replace those lies that were spoken to me with truth. That made a lot of sense to me. None of those hurtful things that were said to Jesus were true, and none of the stuff that was said to me was true either. So, I have decided to familiarize myself with truth. Accept it as part of healing and growth. I am a part of a small group, and it's the kind that sometimes you get to say nice things to the other members, to affirm them. I just found the piece of paper that my affirmations were written on. It says that I am accepting. I am a healer. I am genuinely warm, I am sacrificing, I am attentive, I am unique, and generous. Each of those is from a different person. I like it. If I heard those things said about someone, I would want to meet them. I would want to know if these things were true, and if so, how did this person get this way? I don't know if any of that stuff is true, because I am realizing more and more how little I know of myself, but I want to know truth. I want to build my platform, by saying these things until I start to believe them. I am going to write things on my mirror and read them everyday. Tape things up in my tiny bathroom that say "You are loving and wise", and "You are a badass." (Just kidding, but that is a good one).
The truth is that I am beautiful, lovable, and GREATLY loved by God. I am an overcomer. I am strong. I am smart. I am capable. I am creative. I am useful. I am accepted. And I am a tender shoot, growing up;)
