Extra time on your hands?

There is something on my heart that I want to share with all of you in the midst of the crisis we are facing.  It is not political, and it does not include any statistics.

It is about you.

I created this blog, this place to write, this place to share my heart, my story, my healing journey, about two years ago.  The journey began from the pit, my unhappy self at the bottom, waiting to be pulled out.  I was waiting for something to happen, and I wanted to be rescued.

I looked up, cried out, and then waited.  I had extra time on my hands, waiting, so I decided to start unpacking the imaginary bags that were with me in that pit.

If you have read my posts for the past two years, you know that many of the bags held people.  People I had to recognize, forgive, sometimes let go of, and always love.

I found myself struggling with all of it.  I experienced many setbacks.  I felt like I was standing at a wall, bags unpacked and strewn all around me.  I found myself trying to escape.  I was so ready to move on and put it all behind me.  Something was hindering my escape over the wall.

I sat back down and examined the steps I took, and I determined that I needed help.  I realized that this is not something that could be accomplished on my own.  I started reading “Emotionally Healthy Spirituality,” by Peter Scazzero.

I learned that I was living in the 10% of myself that was above the surface.  The idea is that most people bury themselves, the tough parts, and choose to live above them.  It is easier to forget the hard parts, and just move past them.  Eventually, the hard memories  rise up, no matter how hard we try to keep them below the surface.  They can strangle us if we don’t take the time to work through them.

So, there I was, at that wall, ready to overcome whatever I needed to overcome.  The book I was reading mentioned the wall as “a number of events piling up one after the other.”  I started to see writing on the bricks of my wall.  There were names of people, there were bad experiences, haunting memories, and sadness.  The author states that he tried to go around, jump over, and dig a hole under his wall.  He finally went through it because the “pain of staying felt unbearable.”

His words hit home.  I wanted to go through my wall too.  How???

I continued reading, and then I felt like I was led to two more resources that were necessary to find the answer to that question (how?).

The first one was called “Healing Prayer,” from Donna Winship.  I sat in a room with several other women, eyes closed, and imagined myself back in the first hard place that came to mind… rocking a baby to sleep.  The baby was not mine.  Confusion, anger, feelings of unimportance, and feelings of being replaced welled up inside of me.  The feelings were wrapping themselves around me, like deep waters I could no longer tread.  Just as I was going under, the woman who was leading the meeting said, “now picture Jesus there with you, in that moment.”  As tears fell, I pictured Him there, next to me, next to the rocking chair, smiling, hugging me.  Through prayer, I released it all. I released the feelings, the lies I told myself about myself, and I released others in forgiveness.  The woman leading the meeting told me to receive the truth, and walk in that truth.

That experience was life changing.  It was the answer to “how do I go through that wall?”

I continued, on my own, throughout the next year, bringing tough memories back to my mind.  Picturing Jesus there in those moments, feeling His loving arms wrapped around me, and releasing it all to Him.

Each memory that built that wall, as I released it, faded.  Eventually, it was gone completely.

The only thing left was love.

The second resource I stumbled upon was Donna Winship’s husband Jamie Winship on YouTube.  He spoke about knowing our true identity.  I was intrigued because I had no clue what that meant.

Identity.

Jamie informed me that I am unique, and that I was called to do something that no one else was called to do.  He informed me that my purpose is unique.  No one else can, or was called to, do the things that I was placed here (at this very moment, in this house, neighborhood, workplace, mission field) to do.  As I listened to these words, I felt my heart grow.  I was excited to jump in and do whatever it was that I was supposed to do.

I closed my eyes, as directed, and asked God to show me the identity that he gave me.  I wanted to know my unique purpose.

It did not happen instantly.  I read more, listened more, and sought it as often as I could.

I had to realize who I was not in order to see who I was supposed to be.

I no longer wanted to be an angry, insecure, unworthy, unimportant, struggling, and ill-equipped person. Once these false identities were acknowledged, and swept out of my mind, I was able to see what remained.  My mind was filled with truth, and my identity became daughter, leader, healer, conquerer.

Some days I live in my true identity.  Some days I fall back into my false identity.

The secret lies in knowing that my false identities can creep back in, but also knowing that I hold the broom.  I just have to sweep them back out and exchange them again.  Seems so simple, yet it took a long time to figure it all out.

I created this blog to share my journey with others who want to experience the same healing and freedom.  I hope that these words that I felt nudged to write today, in the midst of this crisis, bring hope and healing to you.

In these moments when our world seems to be falling apart, we can rise up and live out our unique purpose.