Soft Heart

I don't think it's a secret that I have a very sensitive heart.

I was always that kid that FELT it. All the things. Crying was a regular occurrence. I'm sure my family really appreciated it. Like I couldn't catch fireflies and leave them in the jar WITH HOLES IN IT because I was mourning their loss of freedom. It was maybe a little ridiculous.

As I grew up, I realized that being that sensitive wasn't socially acceptable plus it hurts a lot more. People think you're ridiculous when you cry over bugs, so you better start sucking it up. I have hated my sensitivity and I have done a lot to hide it over the years, even from myself. I have built a pretty quality armor for this heart of mine, and then a nice wall around that. I am PROTECTED, dangit. No one will see me have feelings! (I like to tell myself that anyway.)

What I didn't realize was that I was doing that with God too. 

If I just put a thick enough armor on this heart of mine, then nothing will hurt. Don't you worry, Jesus, I have no expectations on you because look, I have my armor! I'm good! I will be wary and cautious and if things go sour, that's ok, I was totally ready! (knocks on clanky armor to prove point)

I've put such a thick, hard covering over my heart that I don't let him in. 

He has seen that, of course. He's seen the girl with her rusty pieces of metal, trying to make sure there are no holes so that the pain and hurt can't get in. He's been patient with my ineffective protection of myself. But he wants more.

See, when you have a protection of your own making, you can't run anywhere for comfort when it hurts because that would require you to admit you felt it. That would be saying that you're in pain and you can't fix it yourself. That would be surrender to your own sensitivity and inability to change things all by yourself. It requires admittance of dependence.

Armor doesn't get you anywhere, really. I still feel everything as much as I did except chuck in some bitterness. It's not a fix.

He's known about my sensitive, soft heart underneath the armor. I want to trust him with this bleeding thing and just let him have it. He'll take better care of it than I ever have. And if I'm willing to shed the armor with him, then I can shed it with other people because he will be more than enough to protect me. It's scary, but he made this heart exactly as it is, he knows how to take care of it. 

Pray for armor to drop for me. Pray for armor to drop for you. We all need our hearts to be open to him for healing, for molding, for us to really know his love too. We're not meant to make our own armor.

And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.

Ezekiel 36:26

But I have trusted in your steadfast love;
    my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.

Psalm 13:5

Thoughts on Last Week

Oh man.

Deep breath.

Last week was awful. I don't think there's anybody that would disagree with me there. It. Was. Awful.

Every time I opened Facebook, there was something else. (Don't judge me...we all get our news from Facebook first, amiright?) Black men falling, police officers falling, people arguing, people in pain, people angry and confused. It was really awful, guys.

I just kind of sat and watched because I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know how to respond or what was the right response or even if what I felt was ok. I legitimately didn't and don't know what to do at this point.

I feel incredibly inadequate to say anything at all. The only two things that have been on rotation in my head have been "I'm sorry" and, in the words of the president, "we can do better." Except that last one was more of a question than a statement. Can we do better?

There's so much politics (many politics? Much or many?) involved in this, and I'll be the first to tell you that I don't get politics. I don't like them, they're not what I'm about, and quite frankly I do not feel educated enough to comment on most political things.

But what I do know is the human heart. And the other thing I do know is the heart of God.

Can I ask us to do something? Just real quick. Can we stop questioning each other's pain?

Can we look our black family, friends, coworkers, acquaintances in the eye and acknowledge their broken hearts? Can we just say "I'm sorry" and not follow it with a "but?" We need to acknowledge the deep, unfathomable for most of us pain that they are feeling. Not just pain but terror. Our family, friends, coworkers, acquaintances are scared they won't make it home. They're scared their family won't make it home. Is it enough for them to feel pain and fear for us to put our arm around them and say I'm sorry and we can do better? We don't have to qualify it. Actually, please don't qualify it. Can we try that?

Can we look our police family, friends, coworkers, acquaintances in the eye and acknowledge their broken hearts? Can we just say "I'm sorry" and not follow it with a "but?" We need to acknowledge that our family, friends, coworkers, acquaintances are scared that they won't make it home or their family won't make it home. They're hurting too, their hearts are broken too, they're terrified too. Don't qualify your I'm sorries. Please.

It all feels crazy, right?

I have a lot of emotions, thoughts, questions, opinions about this. But the one thing I'm positive of is that God would not have us question the pain. The pain that everyone feels right now is real, it is deep, and it is seen by Him.

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight. Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.

Romans 12:14-18

Can we reflect the heart of God as we move forward and get close to our brokenhearted people, all of them, all of us? Cry with all of our people, cry out to God for change, for protection, for His sovereign hand to move our country to look more like Him in all things, and that we would treat each other as He would have us treat each other. Pray that we would reflect His character, that our lives would be evidence of the blood of Jesus.

It is more complicated than this, I know. And yet, it's not more complicated either. Which is complicated.

Come, Lord Jesus.

Faithful

I find myself in a very weird time, with plans derailed and purpose removed. 

I had thought that God was showing his faithfulness when I was offered my long awaited dayshift position. I was praising him for sustaining me through one of the hardest things I had ever done, and even found the close bittersweet. 

I also thought that God was showing his faithfulness through the healing he has done in the last year. Depression and anxiety are not defeated yet, but he has guided me gently through healing I didn't know I needed in ways I didn't see coming. I was praising him for how he had healed my brain and was making me whole again.

Things were really looking up. 

And then, as is so common...the unexpected. Something that started as a mild annoyance has turned into full blown pain and disability. My feet have been almost literally knocked out from under me by a seemingly simple little nerve being compressed...it sounds almost silly. I assure you that it does not feel silly. Suddenly, dayshift has to wait. Work has to wait. Productivity has to wait. Cleaning the house has to wait. Everything has to wait for the healing of something I never saw coming. 

I hate waiting.

And yet, God is faithful. In circumstances that could easily push me to my very lowest, I can honestly say the only reason I'm ok is because he is holding me up. And dare I say, that he has prepared me for this. 

He taught me through 5 and a half years of night shift to lean heavily on him. To seek his face in the darkness. To hold tight when nothing makes sense. 

He has shown me through depression and anxiety that he has made me strong, through his strength. He has taught me a new way, a way of hope and not despair. That there is always his light to see, even when it seems black as night.

I can honestly say that in this weird time of helplessness and pain, I have joy. I have contentment. I have faith that he is orchestrating healing, whatever that looks like. That is not a testament to who I am but testimony of him. He is present. He is faithful. He loves so well.

He has provided for me in ways to numerous to count, mostly seen in the faces of people who are loving me, holding my hand, letting me cry, checking on me. He has provided abundantly in time off to heal, in financial security, in doctors to help. 

I see him all around me. 

Not every day is easy. Not every day looks like peace. But the water that runs through me is deeper than surface turbulence. So I'm better than ok, I'm good! And I am overwhelmingly thankful. He is so good. He is so good.

I have not hidden your deliverance within my heart; I have spoken of your faithfulness and your salvation; I have not concealed your steadfast love and your faithfulness from the great congregation. As for you, O Lord, you will not restrain your mercy from me; your steadfast love and your faithfulness will ever preserve me!

Psalm 40:10-11