So, here I am.

So, here I am. It has been a pretty emotionally unstable week altogether, today being the worst yet. Rachel left on Saturday to start things off, and then I decided that I would fast and pray for her and the team while they are down in South Africa. This has put me into emotional mess because I am weak and miss food first of all, but also because my body has been deprived and is running on nothing. Then, to make today the messiest of them all, I got little sleep, had my one on one with Rick and then watched a half dozen testimonies of God changing lives. My insides are a mess.

As I watched each of the videos from IAmSecond.com, I longed for something. Each of the people in the videos spook with such freedom and confidence, not fearing who heard their story and what hurt would ensue. They told stories of how they had trusted God and overcome conflict. God became bigger than their problems... Stories of reconciled divorce, confidence in Christ, redemption from sexual addiction and so many others. I watched at least three videos about men who lost their fathers when they were younger and had lives transformed by Christ. Through their pain, struggle and addiction Christ came out only more glorious at the end.

They each talked about how the pain and emptiness surrounded them, overwhelming them. Invoking them to take their own life at times to relieve themselves of the emptiness that they found themselves in. As each story progressed, each person tried to fix it themselves and it never worked. Only when they began to trust in God - Christ - did anything positive happen. Their lives turned around. Not easy, not fast. But God was working in them and redeeming them back to Himself for his own purpose.

What got me though, as a watched video after video, was the fact they would cry. They could cry. I wish I could cry. I want to cry so often. They had such freedom in Christ and such disregard for themselves that their own lives were just a tapestry for God to paint a picture or write a story. They held complete confidence in Christ, that they would open their lives knowing He was writing a greater story in their lives. A story with trust and joy.

Even though I often think of crying as a sign of weakness, I often long to express it. I am weak, very weak.
I keep an outward exposure, but inward I am so broken I.... I don't know what I even think.... Answering the simple question "how are you?" throws me for loops because of the inward/outward contrast of how I really am doing. Even as I write this I wish I could cry to release, but my body just won't let me.

This past weekend at Church the pastor talked about the body and the soul. I honestly remember very little about the whole sermon, but I do remember my friend lighting up at something. The pastor said something to the effect of, "we normally think of people as bodies with a soul, but I want to challenge you to think of people as souls suck in a body" This stuck my friend hard, and yet I remained unmoved. Not only was I disengaged, but I didn't really understand the significance of such a statement. I thought it was just another gimmick to get people to live on mission (nothing wrong with it, but that what I though it was). I pushed aside until earlier today when I realized what I was.

I am a soul stuck in a body. My life longs to be redeemed and brought into a nearness with Christ. My very self desires to find satisfaction and joy in knowing Christ as the people in the videos did. My spirit wants to be united with Christ's in perfect relationship. Oh, how my soul longs for that kind of relationship where we have perfect relationships... I want that so badly... yet.

Yet I am stuck in the shell of a body that constrains me. Selfishness and pride overwhelm me and I am left blind. I want to cry out to God, yet my body resist and demands that I "hold it together". The lies continue, "don't draw attention to yourself", "You will only hurt more", "You cannot trust them, they will just tell people and embarrass you - weak". And they continue. Lie after lie about who I am not. Lies that I have to save myself. That I have to be strong. That I have to be my own savior and god....

I posted a quote earlier today on Facebook, "What if the great joy comes through our greatest pain?" What if that is true... I know that it is. I have experience the greatest amounts of joy on the others sides of great struggle or pain. So what is it? What is that pain that I am being enslaved to? What burden am I carrying that I think is a shield? Where is my area of pride that I just cannot let go?

I strange illustration, but it might work....
I am like a turtle. I have this protective shell around me that keeps me safe. I think I am free to move and roam around as I please. I am safe in my shell and I am content with my lifestyle, I am doing alright.

But is this really freedom? Stuck carrying around a heavy burden does not sound like freedom to me. Time to lose the shell!

But it protects me!? I could get hurt without it, or even die!

Yeah, and you could live your entire lives in mediocrity without experiencing true joy that comes through freedom. You will never feel, and so you will never feel passion to it's full extent. You are always worried about getting hurt, and so you will never experience the overwhelming.... all surpassing joy and glory that comes through pain. You want to save your life, silly turtle, but really you are wasting it. You choose to save your life and you will lose it. But if you would risk all, open your life to Christ and what He offers, then you will experience life. Life as it was meant to be lived. Naked and without shame.

Okay, but this shell is part of me. I cannot just take it off. It would have to be broken or ripped off, and even then I would likely die. I know for sure it would at least hurt.

Exactly. Life comes through death.

You are telling me I have to experience unbelievable pain, comparable to being skinned alive and risk everything. Even my own life. And, perhaps I do live through this and lose the shell of my pride, what then? I am naked?! I will die.

I know. Crazy, right?

Is it worth it? The pain, the risk and likely your own life. Is it worth it to experience a moment of joy and freedom?

And that is where I am left. I am stuck at the question of whether it is worth it. I am like the turtle who wants to experience the freedom of losing the shell, but not wishing to experience the pain. Yet the truth is, the joy comes through the pain, not just when we remove the shell.

God, I want to experience the great joy of fully knowing you and living life "naked without shame" but I am so afraid of what will happen. I want to lose this burdensome shell, but I can't manage to take it off myself. I will back-out if I try and do it myself. I need you to break it from me, I cannot even do that myself. My soul longs for you, Lord. I want that perfect relationship. I know that I cannot remove this thing between us, I am asking you too. I know that it will hurt more than anything else I have ever experience before and I will fight you to quit. Don't let me. Like Christ going to Calvary, I will ask not to go or ask if there is another way. Please put it into my heart to say "Not my will, but Yours, Lord!" I will probably hate you, so please forgive me. Keep my eyes looking toward Christ, the author and perfecter of my faith who also endured the cross. I want to be like Him. I want to be with Him. I don't know what that means or how to get there, but that is where I want to go. Take me there, Lord.

So, here I am.

Blessings from a pilgrim in progress.
Later

In the Garden.

My brothers and I went to work this week. We have amazing jobs, working for this excellent friend of ours at church. On Fridays, she has us come to her house. I am the "maid", so I work inside most of the time. My brothers, being the strapping, strong guys that they are, work outside.
Last week, she asked us all to work outside and help her with her garden. Our friend has a beautiful house on a beautiful piece of land, and one of my favorite things about her home is her beautifully tended garden.
That week she'd ordered a load of mulch and a load of dirt to be delivered to her home, and she asked my brothers and I to come, and to help her dig out all of the rocks and weeds that were underneath her garden and then to put new dirt on top, and new mulch on top of that.
So, we went to work on Friday morning.
It was a beautiful day outside... about seventy degrees. It was sunny, bright, and beautiful. Perfect for working outside.
So, for about three and a half straight hours, we worked. My brothers were responsible for loading the dirt and bringing it to us, and the boss and I took turns working the huge rocks and weeds out of the ground. It was a lot harder swinging a pick ax for three hours than I thought it would be.
My boss and I were talking and she told me that gardening, to her, was relaxing. She loved to go outside and work in her garden, because it gave her peace and it calmed her spirit. I thought that was pretty neat and responded by telling her that doing the dishes is what did it for me.
She then said "It also has many spiritual applications," and she commenced in telling me about all the spiritual lessons to be learned from such a simple task: gardening.
Christ's death has made us beautiful. We flourish and bloom because of what He has done for us. He feeds us daily and shines upon us, and we grow in Him because of His tender care. Because of His care, we can tend to ourselves, by staying faithful and continually drinking from His word. But when we neglect Him... and when we don't "tend" to our struggles, that is when the weeds come in and choke us. The deep roots steal the water and nutrition we need to grow and the rocks choke us out. That's when we start to wither and perish.
It is only when we let Christ tend to us, like we were all tending to her garden... that's when we truly see the growth. And that is why we need Him most... to keep out the sin, and to guide us as we flourish. To become beautiful, because He makes us beautiful.