Who I Am Has Always Been Inside Of Me
I admit it–I’m a World Race blog stalker. It actually has worked out in my favor, because if it wasn’t for reading blog after blog after blog after blog when I was in college, I may not be here, in month 8 of my own World Race. I vowed to myself that when I went on the World Race, I would post blogs that were deep and honest; blogs that I hoped would inspire and encourage many others.
So far on my Race, I have fallen short of this personal goal. Yes, I have written blogs that have received many great compliments. I’ve written blogs that have in fact inspired others. I have had a blog re-posted by the World Race. Even so, I have skirted around writing the “deep, honest blogs.”
Until today. This blog actually got its start a couple of months ago, but it has been a hard blog to finish. I hope that this blog encourages and inspires others; I hope and pray that this blog truly makes my Heavenly Father proud and brings more glory to His Name.
Sometimes, it’s hard for me to share my testimony, but not for the reasons that you would think. I don’t have a crazy story of conversion. I’ve never had an issue with drugs, alcohol, abuse, abandonment, demon possession, poverty, relationships, or any of the other things that we’ve come to expect in a “powerful” testimony. My life “before Jesus” is not the complete opposite of my life “with Jesus.” It has been easy for me to believe the lie–even while on the World Race–that my story is not one that carries power and influence.
The life that I have been given by God truly has been amazing. It has been full of joy, laughter, love, and innumerable blessings from the start. I’ve known God’s love for as long as I’ve known what love is. My childhood was full of imagination, full of laughter, full of playing, full of color, full of creativity. I excelled in every subject in school and had many friends. I loved playing all sports, but it was not long before soccer became my favorite. I joined the local rec team and played my little heart out at every practice and every game. I loved spending time at church. I loved spending time with my family and my friends. The world was full of adventures to be had and dreams to be dreamed.. My life as a kid was one of simple trust and love in Jesus, exploding joy, and blowing bubbles in the backyard.
“The wounds we received as young girls did not come alone. They brought messages with them, messages that struck at the core of our hearts…our wounds strike at the core of our femininity. The damage done to our feminine hearts through the wounds we received is made much worse by the horrible things we believe about ourselves as a result. “–Stasi Eldredge, Captivating
I cannot pinpoint the exact moment in time when I started to believe that I was not “enough.” Maybe it was the time that I got forgotten and left behind for my friend’s birthday party in elementary school. Maybe it came because I was somewhat of a perfectionist and anything that ended with a hint of failure was reason enough to believe that I had fallen short of a standard. Maybe it happened with both of these things; maybe it happened with neither of these things. All I know is that this belief both deepened and expanded in my heart as the years passed. Rejection came into my heart through avenues which prior had been safe havens for me. My heart felt the bitter sting of rejection through sports teams, through friends (both actively and passively), through employers, through prospective employers, through my own thoughts and false beliefs.
I learned to avoid rejection’s sting by closing off parts of my heart. I would not always volunteer my opinion or thoughts –I was unable to separate them from the part of my heart that strived for the approval of others. If my opinion or heart were not out in public, they couldn’t be rejected. I trusted my closest friends and Jesus with these feelings, but the pain still came when I least expected it–even on the Race.
I graduated from college a little more than five years ago. The first few months after graduation were difficult for me. The friends who I lived with and saw day in and day out for years were no longer right next to me. They had either moved away from college or were still studying for their degrees and I was the friend who moved away. I had just started to attend a new church during my final semester, and was still “the new girl” as I tried to make friends there. I could barely find a job, let alone a job in my field. All of a sudden, the years of preparation in school for “the real world” seemed to be nowhere near enough. Pieces of my identity that I had known for so long had become memories, photos to hang on the wall. “Remember back when I was a student?” “Remember back when I had a community of friends all around me?” Many times, my prayer times became times of just crying, my confusion and loneliness making forming actual words too difficult. One night, I read a blog that talked about identity. One simple quote from it changed everything for me. ¨Lord, I want to see myself the way that You see me.” I wrote that quote on an index card, placed it in my Bible, and began to pray it with fervor and passion.
Over the past few years, God has completely changed how I see myself. God didn’t change who I am. He didn’t make me an entirely new person. I’m still the little girl who sees the world as full of adventures to be had and dreams to be dreamed, I just happen to be in an adult’s body now. God showed me that the person who I’ve always wanted to be has always been inside of me. I didn’t want to change, I wanted to be unveiled and revealed. The little girl version of myself never ever had to strive to believe that I am pretty and beautiful and full of joy and everything else that defined me. The little girl version of me never ever doubted that Jesus would come through for me, because He is Jesus and that is what He does. The little girl version of me was confident in who she was–loved, unique, free, enough, chosen. I wanted to see myself in these ways again, because deep down inside, I knew that is who I truly am.
Last month, in Malaysia, I got a tattoo. I did not get it just because getting a tattoo in Asia is a popular thing to do on the World Race. I got the tattoo because it was a permanent reminder of how God sees me. It’s a constant reminder of the person who has always been inside of me, even through times of loneliness and times of rejection.
Choosing someone shows that the person who is being chosen has worth, has importance, has value. God chose to die on my behalf. He chose to forgive my sins. He has chosen me to bring His Kingdom to Earth by telling others about Him. He has chosen to place me on Earth at this time in history for specific reasons. Being chosen is the opposite of being rejected. Even when it seemed that my heart was facing rejection after rejection, the truth is that while people may reject me, Jesus never will. In fact, what I have perceived as “rejection” is actually redirection–redirection from the burden of needing the approval of others to the freedom of fully knowing and living out the freedom that Jesus offers.
“I have given you confidence in who you are. I have given you an everlasting splendor for the glory of My Name. Stand up in bold confidence, forget the failures of the past, for I am doing a new thing in and through you. This freedom, O beloved daughter of Mine, is unlike any other freedom you have tasted before. The depths of your heart will feel this freedom and raise a shout for joy.”
Deuteronomy 7:6 “For you are a people holy to the Lord your God. The Lord your God has chosen you out of all of the peoples on the face of the earth to be his people, his treasured possession.”
Hosea 2:14-15 (NIV)
“Therefore, I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor {trouble} a door of hope. There she will sing as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt.”
My heart has been healed from the pain of rejection. Scars still remain, but the scars themselves testify to how Jesus was at work in my heart to bring healing. Loneliness is no longer a friend of mine. God’s love is more than enough for me, and His love makes me more than enough. From now on, sharing my testimony will be a lot easier–I just have to look at my left ring finger. I am loved. I am beautiful. I am free. I am enough. I am His. I am chosen.