The journey back to ourselves… some people won’t understand this concept because they’ve never been really, truly lost.
For those of us who have lived in our own wilderness, whether by choice or by force, the idea of discovering a better version of ourselves can be powerfully inspiring. It means that we don’t have to stay lost. There is another path, despite the painful pieces that we’ve been carrying after life fractured us to our very core.
I’ve been walking this path of restoration for several years now, and it hasn’t been straight or smooth, but it has been worth it because, with each step, I’ve become more of who I am meant to be. As you and I travel this path, we can learn to take hold of the goodness we encounter but only after we’ve made room for it by laying down the shards we’ve been clutching in our desperate attempt to be whole.
These fragments may be damaging, yet still be hard to let go of. The insanity of clinging to something that is so painful is explained by the fact that there’s comfort in the known. The beliefs and behaviors that keep us stuck in destructive patterns is a pain that’s familiar. We’ve come to believe that feeling pain is better than feeling nothing. Even worse, we resist love and happiness because we’re unsure of what to do with them or don’t believe we deserve them.
So, friends, what do we do when we discover that things can be different?
For me, it led to the ongoing process of summoning all of my courage to examine my life and root out what may have been necessary to get me through one season but no longer serves me as I resolve to uncover my best self. Each time I encounter one of these well-worn crutches, I have to ask, “Is this the person I want to be?” It’s almost always an uncomfortable answer.
When that answer is no, it takes a shift in thinking to it lay down and move forward without it. In fact, some of the hardest work I’ve ever done has been deciding I’m brave enough to face the uncertainty of living without that person, that thing, that behavior, that thought. It’s even harder to imagine who I am without it. It’s scary terrifying.
One by one, as I’ve leaned into the discomfort, the grace of God has gotten me through, but it hasn’t been easy. There were (and still are) tears, sleepless nights, even screaming some creative combinations of words that aren’t in the Bible.
I’m not done with this process. In fact, I’m in the process of letting go of something I have leaned on for a very long time. Just this morning I finally closed the door to an insidious part of my life that had become far too easy to turn to for comfort.
Is it easy? Nope. Am I enjoying this? About as much as I’d enjoy being waterboarded. Is it necessary? Absolutely. How do I know? Because, when it’s exposed to the truth, I can see that I’ve made it an idol, which is anything thing that takes priority over God. Romans 6:13 tells us that every part of us is supposed to be used for godly purposes. Every part. Even the ones that we want to keep for ourselves. Maybe especially the ones that we want to keep for ourselves.
So, is this the person I want to be? Do I want to be someone who turns to this thing instead of God? The answer is a heart-wrenching “no”. It has to go regardless of how much I want it or how long I’ve relied on it. I have to go through the painful process of releasing this sin-toy that I’ve been clinging to so desperately instead of honoring God.
Despite my willingness to lay this down as an act of sacrifice, I know obedience doesn’t guarantee ease. I also know this thing cannot come with me any further on my journey back to myself. I know the realest, truest version of me – the one God created me to be – does not need it, and I am trusting that discovering the joy of living as my best self will eclipse any momentary comfort I’m letting go of now.
Praying for you,
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