The last time I wrote on my blog I was confident in thinking that I had it all figured out. That in itself, I should have taken as a sign that I really had no clue! I have been in Australia now for two weeks and have not been able to put weight on my leg for three weeks. I wish that I could sit here and tell you that the pain has gone: sometimes it’s worse and sometimes it’s better. I wish that I could sit here and tell you that I have found all the reasons for why it all happened. Yes, I have had my venting times with God playing the good ol‘ blame game and doubting what He‘s doing. Due to my pride and stubbornness, I have suffered in silence, not wanting anyone to take pity.
“I can do this on my own,” is something I keep telling myself. Now I know that it’s such a lie and I have been telling myself this most of my life. I preach trust, I want to walk in faith, I say that I am dependent on God. Now I have come to realize, that for the most part I have been doing it all by myself. He will tell me something clearly and then I will just run with it, thinking that I have it all together and I know what I am doing. In all honesty, I’m just like everyone else, running this race thinking that only the strongest survive. Pride, I have found, is the biggest snare. Now my only wish is to shrug it off.
A couple of weeks before I broke my leg, I read a story about a girl who ran away from home when she was a young teenager and ended up living on the streets. She was so down and out, and yet never thought about going home for years. She slept on the streets, ate from the trash and got hung up on drugs. She was so disgusted with where she was that she felt like she could not go home. Finally, at a last attempt to clean up her life, she bought a ticket to New York and had a fifteen minute stop in her home town. She called her parents and left a message on their machine saying that she would stop only for fifteen minutes and if they were there, she would come home. She fought her thoughts the whole way, wondering if they even got the message, whether they would be there, and if they were, what would she say? When she arrived at the bus stop and not only were her parents there, but her entire family. Brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents were all there to surprise her and welcome her home.
I don’t know why, but this story broke my heart. How long had I been running for? How long have I hid behind all the things that I do, and never stopped once to think that perhaps I was on the wrong track, perhaps I was not even willing to hear yes or no anymore. After reading this story, I asked God to help me to stop running. Ha, I guess I just did not expect that it would mean that I would literally stop running!
One of the reasons I can conclude to being here, is to get a real look at me, underneath the pride, the things I do, and underneath the walls I have put up around the real me. It’s messy underneath, but for once I am becoming comfortable in my own skin, in my own thoughts. I am humbled, and yet God is completely using it to strengthen me once again.
“You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise”
(Psalm 51: 16-17).
I am learning to praise.
No comments:
Post a Comment