I was 12 the first time I got baptized. That's what "good girls" do and I was one. I was one, not because it was necessarily the "right" thing to do. I was one because I was afraid not to be. I didn't want to go to hell. And I didn't want those around me that I valued to not like me, to disapprove of me. I needed to plug into approval to survive. So, I did not drink, I did not smoke, I did not use drugs, I was a virgin when I got married and after I got married I scrambled to be "enough" for my husband and my children. It's not that I didn't want to be all that I was. It's just that it's all I had inside of me.
I realized early on that things were not as they should be in my marriage. None of the good girl stuff worked. So I focused on more good things; I poured myself into home schooling all six of my children and loved every minute of it. I ground my own grain and made bread and granola, I kept the house tidy and did "christian workout videos" so I would stay looking acceptable and I figured I should watch the christian ones. I did bible studies and stenciled things on my walls and read out loud to my kids every night and stayed off the phone whenever my husband got home so I could make him king of the castle and and and and.....I was so lonely. Deep, deep inside of me.....I felt abandoned.
In order to continue though, I needed to form a plan. I did this by keeping to the country home I enjoyed. It was far enough out that no one would "just drop by" to discover that we were not perfect. In fact, we not only were not perfect; we were falling apart but, boy, did we look good. I prayed to the God that lived on the ceiling because that's as far as I felt like my prayers went. "Rescue me, God. I'm miserable." And then? Then, I'd pick myself up by my very own will power and try harder. Because here's the thing about perfection, about protection......in order to survive, you have to build a fortress and when you lay the last stone, you turn around to realize you've bricked yourself in. God can't help you, because you don't have time to wait on Him. My fortress, though, was transparent. I could see out and you could see in. You just didn't know that what you were seeing was an illusion and I was too afraid to tell you.
So then it happened. One day I did what I never thought I would do. I cheated on my husband. Those of you who know me well, who know the story of my marriage, will be inclined to defend me, to excuse my behavior, to find good reason for it. It's true that there were many years that I experienced deeply wounding things; there's enough blame to go around, but I want to tell my story without dishonoring anyone else. I want to own what I did. My bankrupt soul grabbed onto stolen honey and it turned to gravel in my mouth and I threw it back up all over myself. I told my husband and those closest to me right away to get it off of me, out of me and put a stop to it but the explosion had already caused the damage. I looked in the mirror and didn't know who I was anymore. I'd lost my "good girl" mask.
I couldn't stop crying even long enough to wash the dishes so I ended up on pills to help me cope. The ground under me felt like quicksand, threatening to pull me under. I wasn't completely sure I wanted to fight it. Self and outside condemnation finally won and I walked away from my marriage to try and find oxygen. I spent the next few years in my own desert. My older kids were devastated and wanted nothing to do with me. I didn't blame them. My motherhood was all I'd had before, that and my pride in who I thought I was. Now, I had nothing. I lay down on my friends' couch one day and couldn't speak. "Oh God," I said in my head, "if You're more than the ceiling, I need You to do something." It was five years before I could hear the answer. Not that He hadn't tried. I just wasn't listening yet.
I sat on the front row of my friends' church, tired and stressed. "God. I feel so invisible. So unusable. So mute. I don't think anyone here sees me. I don't even know if You do. I don't even know if any of this matters." It was then that a woman I didn't know walked up and stood in front of me. "You were willing to walk out of here without hearing from God. He wants you to know that He sees you, that He will cause you to rise and shine. You will not go unseen. You will not go unnoticed. He will cause the joy of the Lord to grow within you." It was then that I truly believed and it leveled me.
I've changed since that night. I shook hands with Grace for the first time in my life and it wrapped itself around me and hasn't let go. The fear of being "found out", the suspicion I had that I was unlovable, the wall I'd built around me to protect myself from people....crumbled and left me standing without my defenses. The surprising thing was that I gave less thought to whether or not I was safe and found myself safer than ever.
Today I love people easy and meet them right where they are. I know who I am and Who I belong to. I still fight off the old battle clothes of fear and insecurity and cry best in the bathtub because the acoustics are better and it feels more dramatic. I'm not always "comfortable" but growing pains never are. I've learned to live risky and out loud. I've learned to share my lunch and my life and take the chance it calls for. My heart's desire is to be salt in the world, to season the lives of those around me, to be the oil of joy, to give a hand of hope where it's needed.
So, if I were to die before I wake, I wanted you to know the truth about me and what has happened. I wanted you to know that He has made me brave and I'm walking where the air is clear.
Thank you for opening your heart....... yes.. His GRACE! covers you..... nothing you nor I can do will ever do that....... I am so glad you are at peace ...... just remember... you are loved by many... but most of all by God... Our Lord and Savior..........
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