Never woulda thought . . .
Is anyone else ever amazed at how very different reality is than what you originally imagined it would be?
I’ve been thinking recently about that. I just never in a
thousand years would have imagined my life was supposed to be this
way. I guess because I grew up in a pretty sheltered, Christian
home, I had all these preconceived notions about how if you had God in
your life – and I mean really had
Him in your life – that you’d be set. No worries. No
problems. Well, nothing bigger than the occasional “Oh dear, I
don’t know where I’m gonna get the money to pay for this second
Mercedes”. But past that, life was supposed to be easy.
Why did God have to shatter my dreams? Learning to accept the
reality that God has something else in store for me than that has been
one of my biggest trials. Forget the struggles with self-esteem,
the sexual temptations, and getting over all the past abuses . . . the
hardest thing about all of that crap has been learning that my answers
to life don’t mean shit, b/c I don’t know the first damn thing about
The last few weeks have been amazing. Amazing in the sense that
in some way, somehow, my perspective has shifted. When Christ
uttered the words to my heart “You have value because I’ve given it to
you”, suddenly my life took on new forms and new meanings.
So actually, I can report for the first time in (literally) ages that
I’m doing well. That’s hardly to say that life is peachy.
It really isn’t. I still cry daily, but the tears are different
now. Lately, they haven’t been quite so much about sorrow, but
about gratitude. I thank God for my family. I thank God for
my friends – far and near. I’m so in awe of how truly blessed I
am, even when I feel like shit, and all those things are drowned out by
the emotions that accompany misery. I can still at least say to
God “thank you for what you HAVE given me, even though I feel like I’m
lacking so much.”
I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so broken. I can’t think
about Christ without crying – knowing the hefty weight of my sins, and
how graciously He has shown me a better way. The other day, I
spent like half an hour in the shower just weeping about how good God
has been to me, and how much He’s brought me through. The other
nite, I watched 2 friends of mine from EPIC get baptised (along with
about 25 other people from our church), and the whole service, I’m just
crying, because the spiritual transformation of rising from the waters
anew is so beautiful to me. I cry because in the last 2 months, I
can’t count how many friends of mine have just opened their hearts to
me and shown me their own tears because they’ve been through that much,
and my heart responds in kind – I weep with those brothers and sisters
who weep, because I love them, and I’m not going to let them go through
it alone. And just tonite, I’ve shed tears because I’ve been
through so much . . . SO MUCH . . . in this very short life of
mine. And yet, I’m still here, still standing, still fighting,
still learning every day the truth behind the words “His mercy is new
every morning” and “He is more than enough for me.” And I realize that
I would have never, ever, ever known the real truth behind such
statements had I not gone throug the pain of trying to fill my heart
with everything and everyone else to make me happy . . . only to
discover that there’s nothing on this earth – no one on this earth – that
could ever satisfy me.
Sure, I still have to battle my flesh when it seeks to find some person
or some activity to make me feel whole. Sure, I have to cry out
to my God daily and ask for Him to give me the strength to carry on,
and give me friends who will stand in this battle with me. And it
seems that the Lord is hearing my cry, and He’s moving in my life in
some pretty cool ways.
I’m always skeptical of saying that I’m doing well. Emotions are
such transient, fickle things, aren’t they? I certainly have a
hard time trusting my own. But something feels different
inside. It feels like I’m growing, and maturing, and figuring out
how to navigate this thing called life.
I need to go to bed now. But I’m going to bed with a full
heart. It’s filled with sorrow, but also filled with joy.
Could this be the abundant life that my Savior spoke of? A life
that’s full and complete, knowing both good and bad, trial and
freedom? Maybe. It’s pretty sweet. Better than
anything I ever would have originally imagined. In many ways, the
happy, sheltered life I expected for myself is looking more and more
like a self-made hell. I’m glad to be out of the matrix.
Keep it real, dawg.