Luke 8:54

"And he put them all out, and took her by the hand, and called, saying, Maid arise." Luke 8:54

Monday, July 31, 2017

Wounded Women

Wounded Women 

Image result for music box

All my life I've struggled with a sense of not being valuable. It was never very apparent to people around me, never led to stereotypical eating disorders, or promiscuous actions. But it was a perspective I carried with me throughout my pre-teen years until recently, a 25 year old.

I subconsciously considered myself sub-par to most girls. Normally it wasn't too distressing, it was just a fact. I knew I was less, and I figured it was as obvious to them as it was to me. It was “proven” by my inadequacy or my mediocrity. I wasn't good at sports, I had no exceptional talents, my outward looks were only so-so, and the list goes on and on.

As a young person it was easy to ignore. My family was biased toward me and appreciated my loyalty and service. I was worth “keeping” because I had something to give. I was good at serving. I am a Hutto.

But as I grew older, the more painfully aware I became of what I was “missing”. Somewhere in the past, I had curbed my natural behavior of telling stories and being flamboyant, wild, exuberant. I somehow figured drama was taboo and showing your emotions was childish, and I needed to stop being naive and vulnerable. I suddenly became aware that hugging was for children. No-one actually was interested in my stories about the day. They weren't listening. It was embarrassing to realize that I has been so open and real all my life and nobody else had been. I hadn't caught the memo.

So I tried. And I tried hard. I tried to fit into a personality that I thought was acceptable. Meek, obedient, encouraging, sweet, quiet, reserved, deep and mysterious. Subdued. I was envious of those around me who naturally fit such a mold. Why was I so messy? So innately transparent? Why did I crave to be heard? People around me knew how to behave. To open their hearts and filter what came out.

It was as if hearts were music boxes. Most people didn't share their song. But if they did open...out came tinkling melodies. Why was mine loud and jangled? Why couldn't I keep shut? But I tried.

For years I've felt like a failure. I couldn't compose a different tune. So I just kept silent. Even though it hurt. I craved to be heard and appreciated. But rejection hurt more than being silent.

Jesus gently challenged my delusion. I craved to love and be loved. He showed me that He, Himself, the Creator, Savior, loved me. It was such a relief to be loved unconditionally. And He led me to others so I might love them. And it hurt. It hurt to expose my tangled soul and let the music come out. But it was good.

And then I started dating.
And I was suddenly faced with the possibility that a human being loved me unconditionally. Of course God loved me. But He was a little biased. I mean, goodness, He's my creator and He invested himself in me. Jesus loves me, of course. But how could a man love me?

At first I was convinced Jonah was blind. I heard that love does that. If he really couldn't see that I was mediocre it was because he was blind. But that wouldn't last. And it made me sad. Either he was just being polite or this was a temporary stage. My heart would become ecstatic only to be cut short by fear. I've been here before. I've dared to open my heart and let the music out only to watch the notes fall on deaf ears. Expression feels foolish when no-one is there to receive it. Love only ever led me to pain...where was this leading me? Normally I ended up somewhere empty handed and committed to silence.

But from day one, Jonah told me that God gave me value, and he only was acknowledging it, not placing it on me. He claimed I was beautiful inside and out. Captivating. And I would feel like crying. It should have thrilled me, but instead I felt wounded. Why?

One day I found myself looking in the mirror, surprised that I didn't see ugliness. I actually thought for a fleeting moment I was beautiful.

I open, and the all-too-familiar jangled music starts. And I cringe. I am too much. Too wild. Too hurt. To impetuous. Too clumsy. How could Jonah love me....all of me? Why was I fooling myself?

Staring me down was my insecurity. My wound. It was this – Not that I wanted to be loved, but the fact I didn't believe I could be.

This is why I cried when Jonah loved me. Because it was opening my wound. And yet he sought me. He pursued. He desired me. He said he loved my wildness.

Love allows me to stop cringing long enough to accept my jangled soul. It is still a wound. It still hurts. But I'm learning to allow myself to hurt, while allowing myself to believe that I am valuable. So often, wounds leave scars. But Love, He is a balm. And Jonah is teaching me to accept Him.

Every woman has a wound similar to mine. I've been more open about my wound and suddenly I hear others. So many woman don't think they are captivating. They look in the mirror and cringe. They've wrestled with the fact they aren't beautiful. Their music is lovely, but they can't hear it.

I wish every woman could be loved and cherished like me. I wish you could hear someone tell you that you're beautiful. I wish you could bare open your wound and move on. It's relief to let go of a lie. Ladies, you are beautiful. Unique. Intrinsically valuable. Made in the image of your Creator. You are captivating. It's time to rise up and challenge the lies that have beset you. Start believing you're worth loving. Beyond your talents and looks and wit. Just you. The first step to healing is acknowledging your wound.

Now my heart runs wild

Freely passion sings

Now words convey soul surges

Unfettered love won't tame

Fear must yield to love

Hearts must learn to break

Declare a war on habit

And bare your scars to light

A risk to be bold

Accept what is claimed

Though handicapped uncertain

Dare to open grace

God I know I trust

But this time a man

Placed my heart in human hands

Gently he has held me

So love here I am

Go ahead consume

I will not be frightened

This is the path I choose 

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