Part II:When I Kept Silent

Falling down upon our knees

sharing now in common shame.

We have sought security,

not the cross that bears your name.

Fences guard our hearts and homes,

comfort sings a siren tune.

We're a valley of dry bones.

Lead us back to life in you.

 

The above paragraph has been streaming through my mind all day. It  shakes me to the core because it is such a vivid portrayal of my heart. I am falling down upon [my] knees, sharing now in common shame.  I need Jesus desperately.

 

A little while ago, I published  When I Kept Silent: Part I.  The entire post was devoted to bitterness, and the opportunities presented when we[by God's grace] do battle with it. It's an interesting title since I couldn't have predicted a definite "Part II". It's almost like I knew that the Lord would continue kneading this sin in my heart.

 

Recently, I was given another opportunity to grow. It was painful, and revealed some of the ickiest parts of my heart(the way it was before Jesus came). I didn't like it, but I couldn't escape it. Yet again, bitterness reared it's ugly head. 

Transparency: I struggle with forgiveness. Whenever my feelings are wounded, there is some part of me that just can't get over it. Somewhere along the last 25 years of my life, I taught myself to "burn bridges" if I didn't value a relationship enough to work through conflict. How immature is that? Sinfully, I justified breaking ties with people because I didn't feel like sifting through the pain. FEEL. Isn't that a funny word? I use it entirely too much--I feel  like going to the store today. I don't feel  like doing laundry or cleaning the dishes. I feel like I can't take you seriously.

SINCE WHEN DID FEELINGS BECOME TRUTH?

For as long as I can remember, I have been an emotional person. I'm thinking all the way back to pre-k when one of my peers clobbered my nose with a wooden swing[accidentally, of course] Yes, it was traumatic, and NO my nose wasn't broken. But It felt like the world was ending. I walked around for weeks stubbornly resolved never to forgive my perpetrator. And he asked. Bless him,  ever day at snack time he begged for my forgiveness. I guess I thought it was this cute routine we had. What I didn't realize then was how deeply this poorly would affect me later on.

Plough deep in me, great Lord,
        heavenly Husbandman,
        that my being may be a tilled field,
        the roots of grace spreading far and wide,
        until thou alone art seen in me,
        thy beauty golden like summer harvest,
        thy fruitfulness as autumn plenty.

 

And here was that same feeling. My stomach churned, I couldn't focus and my heart ached. 

Ugh. How could X do this to me? I don't deserve this. I shouldn't be treated this way. 

 As I'm meditating on what it means to be "ploughed" now, I can't help but think of that old game. You know, you and your buddy would each take a turn "ploughing" each other's arms. It was basically just an excuse to torture each other by means of awkward forearm massage.

 

ANYWAY, I thought: I can't handle this pain again. Didn't I have victory? Why won't this ache go away? Why does it hurt so badly? Why can't I just release it?

 

And suddenly, I was right back in that same familiar sin. But like the year before, I couldn't just trample the relationship. It was permanent[isn't it funny how the people most connected to you hurt the deepest?]  But I couldn't just "let go and let God" like I had the year before. It was too much this time. I decided that since this same pain kept showing up, I wouldn't put up with it anymore. I wouldn't allow myself to feel pain. And the walls went up. I couldn't forgive this time. Not if the same people would continue hurting me over and over again. And if God wasn't going to protect me, then I had to make do on my own. I had to protect myself.

 

Just like that, I was a rock.

And a rock feels no pain.

Except, my foundation was shaky; created by hand-laid pebbles of bitterness. It was more like a rock pile. 

Plus, my bitterness isolated me. 

And an island never cries.

Let me tell you something,forgiveness is unattainable without community. The Lord created his beloved to be in family. But isn't it easier to recoil in solitude at the first sign of pain? I think so. Pushing forward in honesty with the people who knew me took more energy than I could muster. But it is often through these people-- you know, the I-love-you-anyway kind--that the Lord brings restoration. 

Once I trudged forward in transparency, I found that I am wasn't alone in my struggle. Life gets messy. People take offense.  Relationships sting. And we are all too familiar with this. 

He who goes out weeping carrying seed to sow will return with songs of joy carrying sheaves with him. 

Ps. 126:6

Ah, this one-- the verse God continues to imprint on my heart.  It seems that throughout this life we will wrestle through pain--physical, emotional, spiritual(sometimes all of the above). But He is in it--renewing our minds and making us more like Jesus. It hurts immensely, and sometimes it takes daily, moment-by-moment surrender, but it will not overcome us. And we have to trust that as we press into the lives of others through the pain, He will be honored. After all,

There's a broken heart in every [life].

I do not feel particularly victorious as I write this. In fact, the battle for joy is raging. It may never be finished until I am resting in the Father's arms. But everyday I have to choose forgiveness. I cannot live remembering the pain. Instead, I must bring my "mess" before the throne of grace and meditate on what has been done on my behalf. 

“Christ redeemed us from that self-defeating, cursed life by absorbing it completely into himself. Do you remember the Scripture that says, “Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree”? That is what happened when Jesus was nailed to the cross: He became a curse, and at the same time dissolved the curse. 

Galatians 3:13-14 MSG

The bitterness I feel threatens to steal my joy and lock it away indefinitely. But God is not chained! He is on His throne, ruling and reigning despite my pathetic heart. And he loves me. 

The curse is broken. 

I am not bound to my sin. Because of what Christ has done there is freedom from myself!

When I meditate on that everything else just seems trivial. 

So no, I'm not out of the storm yet. I don't have to be. But now--more than ever-- I am convinced of the forthcoming victory. 

Hang in there, sweet friends. The King has come and sin is defeated. If that's all you can meditate on today, that's okay. Inhale. Exhale. You are not alone and what you feel has a God-inspired purpose. Everything is going to be okay.