Glass Walls & Other Comforts
I built a wall between me and God. I didn’t realize it at first; I just knew something felt…off between us. My family members would take turns pointing out patterns and repetitions they’d noticed that could only be God asking them to pay attention. They’d get excited while I just nodded, obviously missing something. I stood in church and sang the songs alongside everyone else and felt like the biggest fraud.
There’s been a lot on my mind lately. Accepting where I am in the journey called Life hasn’t been easy. Some of the recent decisions I’ve made I know for a fact my older, healthier self would change, but that doesn’t alter where or who I am right now. Sometimes, I try to be her, the girl in the future, and feel braver for it. Other times, like recently, she only makes me realize how far I am from actually becoming her.
Then I build the walls. How can I continue asking Him to show me and present me with moments to fall in love with life when it seems like I’ve refused all the ones He’s given me? In the face of the bigger opportunities I’ve turned down, the smaller ones I’ve embraced despite my fear don’t feel so monumental. I felt like I’d turned my back on abundant life while pretending otherwise. I hate pretending.
But I couldn’t stand the distance. I couldn’t bear feeling like a stranger before Him. So I wrote. I wrote in my red spiral, typed on my computer, scrawled in my leather-bound. I tried translating my heartache and fear into words. Sometimes they came out journal entries, other times stories. The words just leaked out of me. I don’t mean to say they were fabulously coherent or even all that helpful. Most weren’t. I stuttered and jumbled them together, gave up halfway through, and came back to finish later.
When I emptied myself of words as thoroughly as I could, I put down my pen. I found myself sitting on my bed late one night, the swirl of thoughts and emotions stilled. I stared at my hands.
Are you proud of me? I whispered.
Finally, I could see the wall of glass I hid behind, hoping He couldn’t see me. Are you proud of me, the source of my recent construction project. I craved the answer and yet was desperately afraid of it. The transparent barrier against my back comforted me like a cup of tea in my hand while talking with a stranger at church. I think He understands this human desire because this isn’t the first time I’ve hidden from a question I needed answered. He never blows it up dramatically or demands I demolish it immediately. He just looks at me through the glass with a sad sort of smile, then sits down and casually leans against it. I feel the warmth of His back against mine.
Where are you? He asks, and I know the answer is not for His benefit.
I wrap my arms around my knees and respond here I am.
And the search began. Are you proud of me are you proud of me are you proud of me. I didn’t look up Bible verses I’d memorized and quote them to Him, demanding He say ‘yes’, or even speak them as a mantra over myself, trying to force the doubts away. I just opened my Bible, my source of truth, and continued reading where I’d left off the night before, hoping something within its pages would be a message in a bottle from Him to me.
…’Not that I [Paul] have already reached the goal [his desire to know Jesus and copy Him], but I make every effort to take hold of it because I also have been taken hold of by Christ Jesus’…
I hold you. You’re still Mine. Even when you’re afraid of Me and let go, I won’t.
…’In any case, we should live up to whatever truth we have attained [revealed by God]’…
He didn’t speak audible words to me, but I translated His message immediately. I read three different versions of the lines that caught my eye. There was no lightning strike or jitters, just curiosity, openness, and understanding. And yes, I am aware the dangers of taking Scripture out of context or applying it as I see fit, devoid of its true meaning. But it was clear to me He was reaffirming what I live by on a regular basis. Be content with where you are, even if it’s not where you want to stay; accept who you are, even when you’d rather be someone else. We’re still in this together.
Finally my dear friends,
…’Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable----if there is any moral excellence and if there is anything praiseworthy----dwell on these things’…
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