Pain That Is Real

We have heard it said multiple times (and probably used it ourselves more than once) that "sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me." How I wish there were more truth to that statement! If we were being truly honest, we would see that "sticks and stones" often only scratch the surface. The power of words can cut deep into our lives. The Sacred Romance by Brent Curtis and John Eldredge contains a chapter entitled "The Message of the Arrows". The arrows are those things which have penetrated us to the heart often leaving behind wounds that refuse to heal. Whether we realize it or not, each of us carry around wounds that have the dangerous potential to kill our spirit.
My husband and I have been married for a year and a half. Although we have learned much along the way, one the most difficult lessons we have discovered is that both of us have carried deep wounds into our marriage. I have often heard that each person in any relationship brings with him or her a certain amount of "baggage". This may be true, but "baggage" can be thrown down over time. The wounds caused by life's arrows often leave behind scars.
Many of my wounds come from of feelings of inadequacy. My first arrow (or the first one I remember) came when I was five years old. It was "Bring Your Pet To School Day" in my kindergarten class. One of the children brought in a goldfish which my best friend was thoroughly fascinated by. During our first play break, I tried my hardest to get her to play with me instead of staring at the sad looking creature swimming circles in the world's tiniest little bowl. My teacher, angry at my persistence, told me to go play by myself. At our next play break, I decided to give my best friend a taste of her own medicine (so to say). I sat down right in front of that fish bowl and stared intently at its tiny inhabitant. Yet again, I lost the battle. My friend approached me begging for a playmate. The teacher told me to go play with her and to stop being so selfish. Why do I remember this so clearly? It was an arrow that wounded my heart. At five years old, my mind could not comprehend what made my friend and her desires more important than me and my wishes. Although I did not know it at the time, that wound had scarred my heart. The feelings from that day nearly twenty years ago (and more from recent years) have not subsided. It is a wound which both my husband and I are forced to overcome on a daily basis.
There have been many arrows throughout my life. Every instance of being laughed at or told I was not good enough has pierced my heart. Every moment in my life where I felt I had earned more than I had received left me feeling hopeless and utterly worthless. It often takes just the slightest incident or misspoken word to bring back the intense pain of those wounds. Although I have never broken a bone, I have sustained some very painful injuries in my life. Nothing, however, can compare to the real pain that comes from the wounds of the arrows that have pierced me to the very core. No amount of antiseptic or medication, no band-aid or gauze can make that pain go away. The only way for me to ease the pain is to turn it over to the One who "has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." (2 Timothy 1:7 NKJV) It is so difficult to let go of the bitterness, anger, and resentment of past hurts. Yet, I gain hope for a better future in knowing that God controls each and every moment of my life.

Be Still

I have found myself getting more and more restless over the past several months. I feel as though God has called me to be more than I have been and more than I currently am. Psalm 46:10 says, "Be still, and know that I am God." (NKJV) It is so refreshing to know that God is in control of my life. However, I find it increasingly difficult to "be still". I fear that I will miss an open door - an opportunity to go after the life that I believe God has intended for me.
I feel that it is a daily struggle to blot out the noises of those who would try to keep me from being the person that God has called me to be. I often feel limited by those who tell me that I can never be more than I am right now. As I listen to the ideas and opinions of those around, I find myself succumbing to the restlessness that easily takes over.
I know that this restlessness is not always a negative thing. I am confident that God can use this eagerness to ready me for His call. Despite the positives that can come from this situation, my restlessness generally creates in me impatience, and more often than not, irritability. I become frustrated by the waiting period. As human beings, we are all born with a desire for things to happen on our time. I am learning day by day to "be still" and to recognize that His ways are higher than our ways (Isaiah 55:9, NKJV). I do not know exactly what God has in store for my future, but I do know that the life He has planned for me will come about in His perfect timing.

Where I Am

With every passing year, I find myself looking back, back at where I have been to where I am today. As I celebrate the beginning of a new year, I am forced to look back once again to what has brought me to this point. I have not always understood God's direction in my life and have often wondered just why things have happened the way they did. Why did God allow this or that to happen? Why did He not give me the desires that I so longed for? Today, as I look back on what I have been, I see that His ways are perfect whether I understand them or not.
Growing up, I had so many questions. At times, I just could not understand the way that God was choosing to work in my life. I feel now that, despite my lack of patience, if I wait long enough many of these questions will be answered in His perfect timing. (Patience was never a virtue I had great possession of.) Looking back, and now knowing the rest of the story, I can see where God was at work. I can see why He never allowed that certain situation to take place, or why He never allowed that certain person to play a major part in my life. Today, I have seen where I could have been, and I have never been more thankful to be where I am.