I wish I could meet myself...but younger. im not talking about the younger that you can get with botox or surgery which daily seems less shocking, but i mean the younger self: who you were before who you are now. i feel like all of us, love that self.
when i was little i used to cry and cry and cry every night because i was afraid of the dark and i knew that dad and mom would come in and comfort me and they would always take care of me. of course, after a few years (yes, years) this act got old and dad would threaten to put me in the cold shower. i never believed him, but one time, he came storming the room and I could only see the outline of his body as he reached down, picked me up and took me into the bathroom. the cold water knob was turned on to full strength and then the door opened, and i was shoved in, tears and clothes and all. i never cried in my bed again....not only to avoid a shower. but there was something liberating about that night. some freedom which was found in being saved.
we laugh now everytime we remember that story but as i sit here, i realize that i love that story. i love that self. i love that i was put into the shower. i love that story becuase that is me:
incredibly freaked out everytime that i hear a noise.
incredibly in need of someone to save me when i cry out.
and incredibly in need of some discipline.
i think we all are. i think that each one of us hates it at the time, but there is something refreshing and almost rewarding about being taken out of the hole we have fallen, or dug ourselves into, and brought into so much light that we must blink our eyes to see. I can not imagine a life without parents who sent me to my room, or a boyfriend who cared more about working things out then having his way, or a God who humbly carves away at the pride of my heart and gently uproots those weeds which are so deeply planted. as the weeds are being pulled, and the soil of my heart is being replowed, there is clarity that comes with the new found sun:
the noise i hear is the echo of the enemy's voice, speaking straight into wounds which have not healed, and hitting hard against the scars which i have so carelessly ignored.
i cried out to the One who I knew could, and did, save me...
and Jesus answered with loving discipline.
20 years after that cold shower i sit in my own room in southern california. i hear cars pass, roommates carry on conversation, and crickets whose voices echo from miles. what is different? nothing and everything at the same time. i still hate cold showers. i still wake up and night and feel like crying. i still cry. and now, as i have gotten older and i live away from my parents, not next to my sister and across the united states, i realize that i need that loving discipline more than ever.
the freedom i found on that night, and every cold showered night thereafter was the freedom to love myself. to clear the floor, lay out all of my tears, my fears, my insecurities, my pride, my sin and stand fighting to believe what i know is true. i am beautiful. i am loved. i am free.
" a rebuke goes deeper into one who has understanding than a hundred blows into a fool." proverbs 17:10
7 years ago