Stripped

This post is part of the SheReadsTruth weekly share series. 

This week we are meditating and studying 1 Corinthians 2:1-5

And I, brethren, when I came to you, did not come with excellence of speech or of wisdom declaring to you the testimony of God. For I determined not to know anything among you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified. I was with you in weakness, in fear, and in much trembling. And my speech and my preaching were not with persuasive words of human wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power, that your faith should not be in the wisdom of men but in the power of God.

Stripped down to the bones. Honest and true. That's how Paul presented himself to the people of Corinth. So that through his rawness they could see not what a man of God he was, but what a God of men He is.

Just, wow. I have not been playing this same role at all.
I have done things quite the opposite really.

I don't come from a religious background. This journey has really been a series of me stumbling over my own self day after day. Recently, I have been trying to get the most out of each verse I encounter. I hold the words in my hands for a few minutes, molding them back and forth from hand to hand trying to see if it fits me. If there's something God is trying to tell me. I assume each word that comes across must be directed at me. I realize lately that this may not be the case. The results have been pretty detrimental to my progress. Or at least I personally think so.

You see, anytime the word of God is stern, I assume God is upset with me. That I'm not understanding fast enough, that I'm not smart enough to speak on his words, or that He's fed up with trying to get me to see things His way. It's exhausting. Some days, especially lately, I feel like I'm on this journey alone. While I know that's not the case, some days I just want a constant in my life that I can bounce ideas off of. Someone who is going to assure me that what I believe I understood is not crazy.

I know it seems needy of me. To want and need constant assurance. Let me get a little gritty with you so you can understand why this is; I did not grow up in a loving household. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It was violent. Most days ended in tears, some started that way. There was physical and emotional abuse. Nothing I ever did was ever good enough. Even if I did something that I felt excited about, my dad would find something else I did wrong. There was yelling and beatings and I really, really, just wanted to die. After all, if you can't do anything right, if you can't make anyone happy and you don't feel loved, what's the purpose?

He had told me that no one was ever going to love me. That I didn't deserve anything nice. One year for Valentines day my parents bought me a 14k gold heart necklace. I must have been about 10 years old. The chain was so thin and eventually became a tangled mess. You know how that goes, the more you try to fix it, the worse it gets. Too afraid to tell my father, I just kept trying to fix it myself. Eventually it broke from all of my trying. (Feels like the story of my life). He specifically told me I was not worthy of having anything nice and he vowed never again to buy me a piece of jewelry. Fast forward to the first and only piece of jewelry a guy ever bought me. Valentines day. Pretty diamond earrings. I felt so loved. Felt like my father was wrong after all. Well, guess what? I left them on the dresser of our hotel when we left to come home from a trip. I've lived with the regret of this for years. It just seems like maybe my father was right. My track record is 0-2.

I also think of how I tried to fix my moms broken heart by convincing her not to live in custody anymore. To make the move to break free. Even though my mom eventually went through with the divorce, it didn't fix things. She suffered wicked depression, anxiety, and heartache. Like my father, she was an alcoholic. She was terrified of this world. Her only reprieve was drinking and listening to music. We spent so many late nights in the emergency room or being checked in to psychiatric care. Try as I might, I could not make her happy. She died 9 years ago as well. There are so many feelings, emotions, things I just cannot describe to you right now.

So here we are in 2014. I am living with the same fear, rejection, hurt, negative impression of myself as I was living all those years ago. I have spent countless hours just crying and crying. I've been in some pretty dark and scary places. Places I'm sure my parents frequented. You would think I would have been released back in 2005 from the emotional and physical pain. As much as it hurt(s) to lose my parents, I did have this selfish and gross sense of relief. But the pain didn't go away. The damage was already done.

There are days I think I've finally made it to the point where my past does not define me anymore. However, lately it seems like I'm living with the same fear, minus the physical abuse. I have felt like a failure. I feel like the people I most care about, I have let down continuously. I have one particular friendship that is on the rocks and it's absolutely devastating to me. I am a fixer. I want to fix things. But as you can see, I tend to do more damage than good.

I really wanted the glory of God to wash away all my pain. To make it better. I guess I wanted a fairy tale ending. I wanted my obedience to God to produce fruit in other areas of my life. I wanted to be blessed for my willpower and my desire for Him. I believe one day I will be, but I'm tired of feeling unworthy now. I remember at one point I believed God loved me. Then I had a thought that took that away. While I still believe He loves me, I no longer feel special. I realized if He loves us all equally and there's no one out there who thinks of me as the love of their life then really I'm just the same I was before I found God. There's no one that I mean more to than someone else in this world. Though I have had moments of absolute awe, the day to day, minute by minute is still an absolute struggle. Some days I even feel like I'm moving backwards. I don't feel worthy of testifying to His love.

Why am I telling you all of this? Because of this verse. Because of the spot where I'm standing today. See, I've been trying to be something incredible. I wanted to leave a lasting impression on God's great glory. I wanted everyone to see how powerful and great He is. But I have failed. Time and time again. But Paul was the opposite. He was raw and dependent on God, just as I am today. He was weak and fearful, as I am. He did not speak eloquently, but very simply. He was not persuasive. Instead, because of his simplicity others were able to see how powerful God was. Because our faith should not be in the wisdom of men but in the power of God. Paul did the opposite of what I've been trying to do.

I said I didn't want to continue to try to apply every verse to my life. But in this case and point I think I need to. So here's my honesty. My rawness. My hurt. I pray that others can see His power through my weakness. Just as with Paul. That I can be as stripped down as Paul was while I continue to pursue His will for my life. I don't have all the answers. I could try to find some deeper poetic meaning here. But I'm not going to do that now. If God wants to show Himself through this confession then He will.

Perhaps this place is right where God wanted me. Facing my past before I focus on my future. Maybe He just wanted me to know it's okay to not have all the answers. That He will speak to me what I need to hear, when I need to hear it. But most importantly, He can still reach others even though my understanding is minimal. Who knows, maybe right now someone can hear Him loud and clear. I pray that is true.

Hopefully one day I will know that 'crazy about you' love. I hope one day I feel differently. I pray one day I can see where I stopped living out the words my father spoke into my life and where instead I followed the words my Heavenly Father speaks into my life. 

Love,
S