Writing has always been a very honest and intimate outlet for me. I used to hate when people read what I wrote because they’d have the opportunity to scrutinize and come to their own conclusions about what I meant. Also, they’d get the opportunity to see glimpses of the real me.
In the course of my life, I’ve hidden behind many things but writing was never one of them. I could never write a lie, not even the lies I’d told to myself. Whatever I was feeling at the time would echo through my written words. Before I encountered God, all my poetry had a recurring theme of longing for freedom. In seasons where I felt extremely close to God, my poems would bleed intimacy.
Recently, I’ve been feeling a plethora of emotions. Mostly, I felt constrained by my limitations and I can’t write in a box. So I stopped writing. Not only did I stop writing, but I stopped talking. I wouldn’t talk to God about what I was honestly feeling and it tainted everything I tried to do. Praying was difficult because it was routine with no emotion. Worship was strained like sitting at the dinner table with a spouse who has emotionally checked out. I received nothing from reading the Word because I’d closed myself off to His voice.
This is not what a relationship with God is supposed to be, so I was miserable. Being close to God is the only true satisfaction we can receive. It’s where we’re supposed to be. It’s our purpose. So when I became fed up with the misery and holding it all in, I opened my mouth and the floodgates were released. I poured out the depths of my soul and came face to face with what I’ve always known to be true… I’m messed up.
Just to be clear, we’re all messed up. We all have problems. The good news is God is well equipped to help us. If we don’t acknowledge our problems, we can never get better.
As I poured out my emotions, I came to realize there was so much bitterness and unforgiveness that I’d harbored in my heart from experiences in my past. I faced rejection from very close family members at a very young age, and I’d carried that bitterness for a long time. I believe that God allowed me to get to that place of misery so that’d finally come to Him and let Him heal me of very deep and long-festering wounds.
Even now, the writer in me wants to finish this post with a tidy resolution, but life doesn’t always look like that. Life is a process and while healing has its painful moments, there is so much beauty in the process. With each step I am growing closer to God, closer to healing, closer to freedom.
“Grace only sticks to our imperfections. Those who can’t accept their imperfections can’t accept grace either.” – from Scary Close: Dropping the Act and Finding True Intimacy by Donald Miller