Sunday, March 09, 2008

The Revisit

Let's see now. It was fall of 2005, so that was two and a half years ago. Two and a half years since the most intense pain I've ever experienced. And two and a half years since the most intense love I've ever experienced.

God used a lot of stupid decisions and life-long patterns to bring me to that point. He was teaching me some hard, hard lessons about myself, others and His love. I had lived my whole life in flight or fight mode when it came to the heart. When in a place of risk (where the heart was involved) I would either pack my bags and head back to safer ground or I would fight like hell to make sure I wasn't going to experience pain. This was so normal, so part of who I had become thru the years that, though I could see it at times, I was powerless to overcome it.

As with all good stories, this one revolved around a guy. I had been in an on and off relationship (on and off because I was constantly fleeing) for three years and when HE finally ended it once and for all I was rocked. Then, almost immediately, he and my best friend started falling for each other. I was undone. I no longer had anything to take flight from, but boy did I have something to fight against. And that is where the work really began. God, along with Joyce Meyer, Jan Meyers, Elizabeth Elliot, Demps and Kristy and a few others, pressed me against a wall and would not let me flee nor fight. I was kicking and screaming, but I knew I was stuck. I was stuck in a place of raw pain. I was open and wounded and vulnerable. I was exposed and I had never felt such intense pain and such intense inability to do anything about that pain.

For the first time in my life, I was choosing to remain in the pain, to offer it to Jesus and to do nothing. Doing nothing is not in Heather's natural vocabulary. I had become so good at avoiding pain that there were times that I honestly did not think I would physically live thru the night. I had spent the previous 30 years unknowingly creating ways to feel secure and free from the danger of intense hurt. I had become impenetrable AND incapable of truly loving or being loved.

So, God in His desire to win my heart, broke it. He tore it open and I was naked and raw. I distinctly remember the moment of no return: I knew, and I said aloud to God, either You are everything and all I have or You are nothing. God was either irrelevant, maybe even non-existent or He was life. I knew this was it...this moment would define the rest of my life.

In His grace, He showed my desperate and broken heart that "I Am" truly Is. The pain remained, but the healing began.

So, why am I writing about this now, so long afterwards?

Well,I have learned to trust more and to open myself to the risks and pains of life. I have learned to love, not perfectly, but truly. I can see the fingerprints of God's work in my heart since that season. And with this increased trust and vulnerability comes increased pain. Hope brings pain. And with this pain comes the same question which brings me to revisit my questions from the past (or brings them to revisit me)... Is it worth it? And if it is, do I have the strength to keep trusting, keep opening myself, keep feeling, keep hoping, keep desiring without being overcome? Will I become a cynic? Will I give in to what my tired and pained heart tells me? Or will I trust in Him though He slay me?

My prayer today is that I will come face to face with Jesus once again and that He will bring me to repentance and faith once again. I long to trust. I long to stay in the room long enough for him to do his work. But, the battle is on and my heart is wanting to flee or fight. Lord, help me stay and trust.