I Am No Longer Afraid

"You're different these days."

It was a compliment this time. Though I usually hear it in a chiding tone from someone who thinks it their right to comment with displeasure on my life-journey. But this time, surprisingly, it was in admiration from someone who has known me a long time. It made me smile.


I am different these days. I am....happy. Confident. Free. Comfortable with myself and my place in the world.

But mostly, I am unafraid.

Fear has shadowed my entire life. I can never remember not being afraid. My earliest memories were tainted with fear, even the happiest of them.

But these days, that fear is gone. It's amazing how that changes a person.

I am no longer afraid of god. Afraid of displeasing him. Of not following his will for my life. Of making a mistake and disappointing him. Of him ruining my life because that's what god does when you rebel, it's how he shows you he loves you, by not letting you get away with your own selfish desires. His plans are so much better than yours, after all.

I am no longer afraid of hell. Of accidentally sinning and dying before I can repent. I had nightmares about that as a small child. I was terrified of spending eternity in hell. It seemed so easy to screw up and end up punished after you die. I was so afraid of my friends going to hell too. I was so afraid that I wouldn't get to tell enough people about Jesus in my life and would be responsible for them dying and going to hell.

I am no longer afraid of punishment. For most of my life, I lived under fear of punishment. From my parents, from god. Messing up meant harsh punishments. Spanking, grounding, losing friend privileges, having to do extra chores, writing out a hundred sentences that say "I will not blame-shift". But mostly spankings, until I became a teen. Then it was lectures, control of resources, and groundings that killed the small social life I had. For every little infraction, because all sins are the same, and foolishness must be driven out of the heart of a child. Afraid of punishment from god who could not only send me to hell if I died unrepentant, but he could make my life miserable too. He could do all manner of horrible things to teach me a lesson if  screwed up. He could even take my child's life if I loved her more than I loved him, if I loved her too much. That's what god does, because he's a jealous god. My entire life, death, and afterlife could be punishments if he decided I needed them.

I am no longer afraid of missing god's plan for my life. I make the plans for my life now. I take the responsibility, I pay the consequences, good and bad. No one is waiting to punish me for planning badly. I'm not going to ruin my life if I don't hear god correctly and take a wrong step. I'm in charge. If I screw up, I will try again. There are many different ways to live a successful life, I'm not fucked if I miss The One. There is no "hedge of thorns" sent to hem me in and bring me back to god's plan.

I'm no longer afraid of failing to be who god wants me to be. I don't have to ask permission to be me. To follow my heart. To love whom I want to love. To be passionate about what matters to me. I don't have to make sure my character fits someone else's idea of right. I choose my values, who I want to be and what that looks like.

I am no longer afraid of what other people can do to me. Of whether the ones I love and used to be dependent on will walk away, reject me, and break my heart. Because I realize now that giving my heart to them means they can hurt it, but they cannot ruin it. Only I can do that. I am not dependent on how others treat me for my validation or my success in life. I adore all the people that are part of my life, but my life is not dependent on them anymore. I am no longer defenseless and powerless.

I am no longer afraid of the darkness in me. That part of me that is just as much human as the light, happy parts. That part that scared people, that they taught me to fear. I am those things too, in all their rich glory, and they don't scare me anymore. I don't have to deny the darkness exists or pray it away because it turns out it's not evil. I know evil; and the anger, passion, depression, anxiety, rage, rain, storm, and shadows that reside in human nature are not it. I can be a whole person now.

I am no longer afraid of being happy. It's OK to be utterly happy with myself and my life. It's OK to love and to live. It's OK to feel satisfied and enough. Conversely, it's OK to be sad. To be unhappy. To want more. To wish and not be OK with how things are. I am no longer afraid of the entire range of human emotions. They are not good or evil, they just are.

I am no longer afraid of my passion. I am a passionate person, and that is perfectly OK. Though I still get shamed often for this, get sanctioned, invalidated, told I'm too much and not enough, told my passion doesn't belong or is misplaced, told to be quiet, be nice, sit down, shut up. But since I no longer need validation from others, I am no longer afraid of my own passion or what others think about it. I can shout from the rooftops or speak in whispers in quiet places, and it is enough and it is valid.

I am no longer afraid of so many things, fears that have been a part of my life for as far back as I have memories. And that changes a person. It takes a huge weight off their shoulders that makes every aspect of their life lighter.

So, yes, I am different these days. I am whole. I am unashamedly, gloriously me.

And I am not afraid any more. 

I Was You Once

You...the girl with the waist-length hair, long denim skirt, and downcast eyes. Trying on old clothes in a thrift store because new clothes are too "worldly" and "immodest". I was you once.

You...beautiful girl, hiding behind your walls; walls built to keep the evil world and influences out. Baggy, ugly clothes to hide your shape. Ashamed of the looks cast your way. I was you once.

You...standing there as your mom tells you that this dress or that skirt is unacceptable because it shows your budding womanly form which must be hidden at all costs because of it's danger. Blushing at the critique of your body, casting longing, furtive glances at the other girls your age in the next dressing room having the time of their lives trying on cute, stylish clothing. Wishing you could be them, just for a little while, just to know what it's like to feel normal. I was you once.

You...feeling like a freak show everywhere you go. Being ashamed of your feelings because you're supposed to be a freak show...a "pecular people". Different from "The World". More pleasing to God then the rest of them. Not foolish like those girls in the next dressing room. I was you once.

You...telling yourself that the way you dress is more godly, more pure, that you're better than other girls who dress like the world. Trying to convince yourself that you know better than they and God loves you more for dressing unattractively. Trying to stuff the pain that comes from being ashamed of your beauty and the evil it causes the poor men around you. Trying to tell yourself that this is your lot in life. Trying not to look longingly at the pretty things that you can never wear. Trying not to wonder what it would be like to feel cute for a change. Using pride as a wall to protect your hurting heart. And feeling guilty for it all. I was you once.

You...ashamed of your beauty, afraid of your shapliness, afraid of loosing your purity and taking some man's purity because you didn't dress modestly enough to keep him from noticing you. I was you once.

You...crying to God "why didn't you make me a man?!" because you hate being a woman and having to hide and look ridiculous. Longing for the freedom to dress without wondering if a guy is going to lust after you and if it'll be your fault or not. I was you once.

Anger, fear, shame, guilt, pride, helplessness, hopelessness, insecurity, and confusion, all hidden behind a shapless, ugly jumper and a heart shut off to keep from hurting. I know. I felt it once too.

You...do you know that you're beautiful and that God made you that way? Has anyone told you that being a woman is a wonderful thing, not something to be hidden or ashamed of? Do you know that God loves you for who you are, not for what you wear? Do you know that's it's OK to be pleased with being beautiful? That's it's OK to want to be attractive and desirable? Do you know that you are not responsible for the purity of the male race? That is a burden far too heavy for any woman to bear. I long to take your hand and tell you these things. But I am just a stranger in a thrift store.

You...I look into your eyes for the brief moment they meet mine, and I see so much pain. I hurt with you, the little girl inside that wants to be beautiful, noticed, and desired. The little girl that's been told all these things are evil and your heart is wicked for wanting them. The woman that feels ugly and thinks God wants it that way. And my heart breaks all over again.

You...God hears the cries of your heart. He wants to tell you you're beautiful, that He made you that way, that He's so very fond of you. That bondage to men's rules was never His idea. That nothing you wear or don't wear can make Him love you more or love you less. That, even if you are stuck in that bondage not of your own making for a time, your heart can be free from the lies that put you there.

Beautiful you. I was you once. Sometimes I still am. Because broken hearts can be hidden by both ugly and pretty clothes. And lies once embraced can be hard to let go of. So for just one moment in time, that moment you allow your heart to show through your eyes as you gaze at me, the stranger in the thrift store, let my smile tell you that you're beautiful. And that I understand. And I pray you get a glimpe of God's grace and His love for you in the eyes of a broken-hearted stranger.

Redeemed, How I Love To Proclaim It

I've been thinking about redemption lately. The act of God taking something that is wrong and making it right again. Taking what was originally beautiful but made ugly, and making it beautiful again. And I realized, this has been the theme of my life.

I look back on my childhood and grieve for the little girl that didn't want to be a little girl because nobody really thought much of little girls other then that they were cute. I didn't want to be cute...I wanted to be smart and adult and I wanted people to pay attention to my words and thoughts. To notice me. I wish I could go back and tell her just how much she would miss being a little girl; just how precious and loved she was even though she didn't notice.

I look back on my teen years and I hurt for the young lady that was so confused and alone and whose heart was ignored, stuffed, and trampled on. That self-inflicted so many needless heart-wounds, just trying to fit in and be acceptable. Who bent over backwards trying please and just ended up broken anyways. I wish I could go back and tell her to forget the conflicting voices of men and follow God from the very beginning. That her heart wasn't "evil" or "rebellious" and her desires weren't "fleshly". That she needed to find out what was true about herself from God alone, not men.

I look back on the budding young woman, flushed with the newness of love. Conflicted, torn between where she thought God was leading her and what everyone else was saying. Confused because what she'd always thought to be true was turning out to be a man-made paradigm, built from fear and not of God. Being drawn to a man who showed her, for the first time, what unconditional love really meant. I would like to go back and tell her to cling to him and never let go. To forget the years of trying to please others who could not be pleased and to follow God. To not waste those years, with their tumultuous emotions and struggles, and to claim the life she wanted and knew was right.

I look back on the woman who was a new bride, who adored her man and thought he was perfect and just wanted to be the perfect wife for him. Who read untold number of books and tried ridiculous things all in the name of "being a godly wife". Who, when her wonderful man fell from the pedestal she put him on (thus proving he was human after all), almost completely lost herself trying to get him back up there (where he really didn't belong and didn't want to be anyways). Because all the books said if that happened it was her fault for not being good enough. I wish I could go back and tell her that no one is perfect and all those books were crap and should've been burned or used as toilet paper. That her false castle needed to come down so a better, real, more lasting one could be built.

I look back on the tired new mother who thought she had it all figured out....until the babies came. That thought she must somehow get her children to fit the description in the child-training books. And when they didn't, somehow believed that she was a failure and her kids would grow up to be brats and heathens. All the striving to "do it right", the pressure to mold her kids "right", and the feelings of failure when they all just didn't fit the mold. I wish I could go offer her a hand, let her know that her children weren't meant to fit anyone's idea of The Perfect Child. That she was a great mom and the best thing she ever did was give up on know-it-all parenting books (and being a know-it-all parent).

I wonder if the older me will look back on the now me and wish she could tell me not to worry, that it's all going to be OK.That God really does take everything in our lives and weave a beautiful tapestry from it.

Because even as I look back and wish that things could've been different, I can see God's fingerprints all over my life. I can see things that I thought were ugly then, used by Him to make something beautiful now. I can see the shaping, the directing, the love and mercy that surrounded me even though I had no idea it was there. I don't believe for a moment that God "caused" bad things to happen in my life. But I would be blind if I couldn't see how He took those things and turned them around, redeeming them, making them beautiful again. What was intended for evil, God grabbed a hold of, turned it inside-out, and unleashed it for good. I keep wanting to go grab something else from my past and run to Him with it, like a little child, holding my hands open before Him, eagerly asking "This too, God? Can you redeem this too?"


I am amazed. And sometimes, honestly, angry still. Because part of me wonders....did those things really need to happen? Did I really need to suffer that? Couldn't God, if He was really all-powerful, have made my life good without the evil? I don't know. Would I be the person I am today if anything about my past was different? I don't know that either.

But this I know: Redemption. This is about so much more than salvation. This about our lives. This....is everything.

A wise man once said that there was a time and place for every purpose under heaven....the good and the bad. That God makes everything beautiful in its time. I hang on to that with everything I have. I look back and I see it, I look forward and I hope for it. And for now, in the in-between time, I proclaim it. And I marvel.

Redeemed, how I love to proclaim it!
Redeemed by the blood of the Lamb;
Redeemed through His infinite mercy-
His child and forever I am.

On Emotions

I used to say that I don't like physical touch. But after I fell in love and married, I realized that I had to believe that. Because I was so affected by a loving touch that the sheer strength of it scared me to death. Since I didn't know what to do with those feelings, I suppressed them and just didn't touch people. It took me forever to be OK with hugging.

I know why I had to suppress my emotions growing up. Why people used to tell me that I was like a rock...was never affected or "wore my heart on my sleeve". Because, when I finally let my guard down, I realized just how passionate I am. And how deeply I DO feel things. Like I had to control and suppress every emotion every feeling, because I didn't know what to do with such strong forces as my own emotions. I was afraid of them. Sometime they'd come out in spite of me and I'd get told not to "let your emotions control you". So I'd suppress them again.

That and emotions were supposed to be unreliable, deceitful, and bad. Lead you into a world of sin and hurt. You were just better off without the inconvenience.

Really? How is that a healthy way to live your life? Emotions are like the barometer of your body. They help to gage your mental, physical, and spiritual health. They aren't inherently "bad" or "evil". To ignore your emotions is like ignoring the gage on a pressure-cooker. Something's gonna blow.

And often, as a young woman, something did.

I'm learning now. Learning how to listen to my own feelings. Learning how to feel, to just let those emotions be, without trying to suppress them, without fearing them. I know that I feel everything very deeply. And it's OK now because I've learned how to direct those feelings in a healthy way.

It's such a relief to allow myself to feel. I look back on my teenage years and I hurt for the girl I was; for the pain that girl needlessly went through and the scars I bear from it now. I read my journals and delight to see the awakening of a heart that was longing for passion and warmth.

It really began when I experienced the love of a man. When a good man chose to love me, regardless of everything. Isn't that the theme of so many movies? The girl nobody noticed, or everyone thought was ugly, suddenly blossoms into a beautiful woman under the influence of a man who sees her, truly sees her, and draws her heart out. Waters and showers love on her until she is becomes who she was always meant to be. If that's not a picture of Christ and His Bride, I don't know what is.

So many times, when my heart gets burned, I am tempted to go back....back into the place where there was no feeling. It seems safer there. Less painful. No one can hurt you in that place. But there, in the dark recesses of a heart that is hiding, you cannot feel love either. I remember that, and reach for love instead.

It hurts something awful sometimes, this being alive business. Giving my heart, even when it's been trampled on; will be trampled on again and again. Choosing to stay alive, to feel, to love, to be vulnerable. It's scary. But I know well the alternative. I've lived it. And I don't want to go back. I choose to feel everything deeply; to savor every thought, feeling, touch, and to let myself cry or laugh or get angry. It is who I am, and I am not ashamed.