Heart Wounds

The intent of this blog is to be real, to share my life with anyone who will listen in hopes that we can do life together. Sometimes my posts are funny and cute, but right now I'm feeling raw. Something happened today to make me reexamine the broken pieces of my heart. 

I am not ashamed to tell people that my life has been (and is) messy and that I desperately need Christ to enlighten my darkness. I've lived so long wearing masks and pretending, mainly because I had no idea who God made me to be. For almost a year and a half, I have sought deep, scary healing with the help of my counselor-friend, pressing into Jesus, and asking Him to show me who I really am in light of Who He is. 

My counselor-friend gets it because he himself has been "to hell and back sideways," as he says. Reading "get wisdom" in Proverbs 4:7 is one thing; actually pursuing this, whatever the cost, is altogether scary. The blow that caused a wound hurt in the first place; ripping off the scab to allow it to breathe and heal properly can seem like torture all over again. I'm convinced that's why most folks keep masks on; the experience of taking them off can be unspeakably grueling.

Today I realized that in spite of how far I've come in my healing and rebuilding process, there's still a large chunk of my heart that's broken: the part that has to do with my motherhood. An incident occurred that made me feel irresponsible and negligent. As I wept under the strain of a head that knows it's a lie but heart that still isn't fully convinced, I made the same request before God that I've been making for over a year: "Lord, show me the lies I'm believing, and the parts of my heart that still need healing." It was obvious: my heart believes that I am a mother who puts my children in harm's way. It's a harrowing burden to carry.

I am not at liberty on this blog to discuss the parts of my past that have led to my believing this lie, but I will share that they have indeed been brought into the light. The enemy can't stand it, so he works ever harder to keep me in bondage. When I say the lie out loud, "I'm an irresponsible, negligent mother who intentionally puts her children in harm's way," it sounds ridiculous...because it's a lie. The thing is, my head can use reasoning, but my heart is a different story. When we're commanded to "get wisdom," it's no easy task; it involves revisiting the past, turning darkness into light, a marathon and not a sprint. Again, our culture (not even the "Christian" culture) doesn't encourage this kind of slow, painful, organic, only-the-Holy-Spirit-can-do-it growth from the inside out. 

Someone I love pointed out today that I should've done something differently, and that I needed to "be more careful." It had to do with my children, and it tore me up. What I heard was that I'm not careful. Is it true...am I not careful, irresponsible, and negligent? My head says no, but my heart still believes it. In fact, not a night has passed since my kids were born that I haven't had the enemy standing before me accusing, fear-mongering, and lying:

"Hold that baby extra tightly...this is how she will look falling down the stairs."

"Look how she's sweating in her pajamas...you could've caused her to overheat."

"What kind of mother allows her kid to see the scene in that movie that you didn't manage to fast-foward?"

"You turned when that car was coming...imagine it crashing into your kids, ending their lives, because of your stupidity."

"Remember that tone you used with your girl this morning? You crushed your kids."

"You didn't cover yourself up fast enough when your kid barged into the bathroom...you pervert!"

"What kind of mother lets her kid keep playing tennis with a metal racket...didn't you hear that thunder?"

"Why didn't you wait till you could see a little farther ahead, instead of gunning it around that tractor that was going 20mph? What were you thinking?"

"You let them play foosball at the pool with a kid who throws around the word 'freaking'? You need to mind better who you let them be around."

"How dare you see your kid running naked down the hall...again, you pervert!"

"Feel paranoid...all these people are kidnappers who want to sell your children to the trafficking industry."

"The reason your kid scored below average on that testing section is because you're not teaching her well enough....you let her down."

These are only a few examples of what the devil tries with me every day, every night. Why does he do it? Because the enemy hates anything God designs, anything that is good. The relationship between parents and children is just one of those things. (It's not all he attacks, either; it's just the piece of my heart that has taken longest to heal). He does it because my heart believes it. He does it because he knows that I mess up, and it's almost impossible for me to forgive myself. The devil loves to take my mess-ups and brokenness and make me think that they are what I am: horrible, toxic, "negligent," "irresponsible," a ruiner of the lives of my children. The reality is that we all make mistakes; the Holy Spirit lovingly convicts and leads us to repentance, while the enemy accuses and brings guilt. I just need for my heart to truly know it.

I told the Lord today that I almost needed the "episode" that occurred so I could see how deeply wounded this piece of my heart is, and how desperate I am for Him to help me. Don't believe for one second that being a Christian means an instant heart change; no, no, NO! Friends, this is a hard, messy, what-the-heck-did-I-sign-up-for kind of walk. That's how we know it's real, and that only Christ's work on the cross can make its crookedness straight. 

Pray for me as I take seriously what Paul told Timothy, to "fight the good fight of the faith" (1 Timothy 6:12). Did you notice the word fight? That's what it is, a battle: hard, gruesome, harrowing, terrible. Except....God's way involves a "good" fight. Sounds like an oxymoron, doesn't it? I've found that God's ways are so contrary to my own, that's how I know I'm standing with Him. He is counterculture; His way is often that of tough love. 

Allow grace for those around you who seem to do "mental gymnastics." The mind isn't actually to blame; the heart is the "wellspring of life" (Proverbs 4:32). Mine has taken a beating over the years and lies have become rooted. It's no easy task to uproot all the tangles and get back to truth, but it's a "good fight." I have to choose to call it that because God's Word does, and faith chooses to believe that one day, this heart will be completely healed. Until then, I wait expectantly, pressing into Christ, being transparent for His sake, calling out the Father of Lies, and believing that the Holy Spirit is renewing me every day (2 Corinthians 4:16). 

A Sensitive Heart is Not a Curse

I'm chewing on a new nudge the Holy Spirit has given me: Sensitivity of the heart and mind is not a curse, but a blessing. This is such a part of my life, I can't begin to touch the surface of it in a blog post. The condensed version is this: When I hear or see things, I can be extremely sensitive to the information and/or image presented, sometimes to the point of being mentally bogged down and not being able to get past it. 

My friend, Jenny, describes this beautifully in her blog post, "It's a HSP Thing." When I read this a while back, I agreed and identified with it, and put the term "highly sensitive person" (HSP) on the back-burner (after all, there's so much at the front of my mind already!). Jenny shed light for me, but at the time, I was thinking more about one of my children and not about myself.

Anyone who reads my blog or knows me intimately is aware of my mind battles. For all of my life, I have considered them a curse, something to "struggle" with for the rest of my life, a constant "fight AND flight" response about so many things I see and hear. For instance, one day I heard a horrific story on the news about what a mother had done to her baby girl. I choose not to repeat it here for myself and others, as it stayed with me all night and for days after. See, I don't just hear news items; they become real in my mind, almost as if I feel them.

The enemy has attempted to make me hate that my mind is this way, that I envision and feel things. My counselor-friend once told me something astounding. He said that the Lord created me as someone with extreme empathy, that is, when I hear someone else's problem, I literally put myself in their shoes and feel their pain. I responded that I wasn't sure I wanted to have that trait! However, when I think about it, didn't Christ Himself feel everyone's pain? Am I not called to "know Him...and the fellowship of His sufferings..."? (Philippians 3:10, my emphasis). Yikes. In taking off the masks I've worn for so long, I'm seeing that who I really am is someone it might be painful to be, but the reward comes in knowing Christ and being known by Him.

As I've stated in past posts, in seeking healing for many life wounds, the enemy has used my sensitive mind against me, having me "see" atrocities I've never dreamed of thinking about before. There have been days when thoughts or images suffocate me all day and night. What Satan should have anticipated, though, was that it has only brought me closer to Christ, and for that I am thankful. Again, it is through suffering that we know and are brought closer to the Lord. "He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name's sake" (Psalm 23:3).

Anyway, the other day I was on the Facebook newsfeed, which, because of my mind, I wish I could filter. I come across countless ads and stories that I wish I didn't have to look at, and for that reason, I tread carefully. I saw an image that went with an article (fake, according to Snopes), but all it took was a split-second glance, and the photo was etched. I won't describe it, but it was grotesque. My husband couldn't see the big deal since it was fake, but those without such sensitive minds don't always grasp the magnitude of one little story or image.

Incidentally, the enemy has been using this sensitivity against me all my life. As a child, and during my teenage years, I saw and later allowed myself to be exposed to numerous ideas, images, and stories that stripped my innocence and  have changed life as I should have lived it. Now, as an adult, I see the damage that unfiltered eyes and ears can cause, and am having to undo multiple lies I've believed about who I am and how God sees me.

Back to my story...
So, I had this image from Facebook locked in my mind, and couldn't let it go. I remembered Jenny's HSP article and emailed her about it. I cried out to the Lord and asked, "What on earth is wrong with me?! Why can other people just mosey along and see all kinds of things, and sleep fine at night? Why do I hang on to these images and notions?" And He answered the way He did once before when I asked pretty much the same question: God meant for us all to be sensitive toward things that are repulsive. 

Our culture is de-sensitized. We watch revolting pornographic scenes in movies like it's no big deal. We hear about human beings in the womb being stabbed with scissors because they are considered inconvenient, and it's as ordinary as the weather. Heck, we even watch videos of it, and don't give it a second thought. We look at pictures of animals mistreated and mangled, and it's just another story. No, being "overly sensitive" is not a curse; it's a blessing.

I should be overly concerned about what I'm putting before my eyes, because it goes into my heart, and I am warned to "keep [my] heart with all diligence, for out of it spring the issues of life" (Proverbs 4:23). I should be horrified at some of the images and stories I see and hear, as if they're no big deal. It should bother me that certain things are happening in the world, and I should be cringing and refusing to hear more about it. And for believers in Christ, we should seek to honor Him in all we see...and all we think about.

We live in a culture of T.M.I. Where do we draw the line? I've been accused of having "my head in the sand," but that's okay. I know what's too much. If a person is squeamish about blood, others understand. If someone is intolerant to gluten, no one else questions it. I contend that all of us were designed to guard our hearts against the filth that has infiltrated our culture, but most just aren't sensitive to it anymore. Either that, or it just isn't cool to be a "prude," as the world sees it.

I do know it is cool to have a clean mind and heart. It is productive to be surrounded by beautiful things. It is wise to use discernment about what is good and what is unhealthy to put into our heads. A person isn't tougher or "more hip" because they can "handle" certain images; that's a lie. I'm trusting God to keep me intentional, and to continue to renew my heart and mind. I believe that after more healing, He will have me fully embrace my sensitive mind. I'm not completely there, but well on the way to viewing it as a blessing.

Broken-Hearted

I am broken and battle-weary.  Most people have no idea, as I haven't a clue about their wounds, either.  God has given me a counselor-friend, an older, godly person who helps heal wounds with his gifts of discernment, patience, and hearing from God.  He once told me that we see today through the eyes of our past.  That explains a lot.

No matter how many times I bring out my shovel to cover over past wounds, they don't disappear.  I'm learning that being afraid to face the past only keeps me in bondage.  Christ was there, He always has been, even in those moments long ago when I was alone (or so I thought).  Counselor-friend is encouraging me to go back to those dark, frightening times, because the only way to bring darkness into light is to actually face that darkness first.  We have to go back and allow ourselves to find Christ there, and let Him be our Rescuer.  If I face today and tomorrow through ideas formed from past experiences, then the way to get out of today's chains is to go back to yesterday's hurts.

Incidentally, I'm not ashamed about seeking counsel from someone who understands these things.  My counselor-friend, a longtime pastor, devotes his retirement days to healing hearts.  I will refer in these posts to him often.  He helps me hear and process the Word, God's still, quiet voice, and the lies of the enemy I've believed too long.  God bestows the utmost patience on me through him, and he and I are on the journey of growth, sanctification, and healing together.  I thank God for him.

I cannot recall a time that the enemy wasn't spinning a web of lies around me.  He can take a little girl and ingrain a cacophony of lies deep into her heart:

     "You're not good enough for that."

     "You're no one special."

     "You're vile and dirty."

     "You serve no purpose."

     "You're white trash."

     "Everyone is looking at you."

     "There's something abnormal about your appearance."

     "You have no common sense."

     "You're unlovable."

     "You're not worth getting to know."

     "Joy in life is for others, not you."

And continue into her years as an adult, where the lies morph into:

     "You're a terrible wife."

     "You're going to traumatize your children."

     "You're still dirty and vile."

     "You're toxic and you poison people."

     "Everyone is still sizing you up."

     "You sounded so stupid."

     "It's your job to keep everything going."

     "They probably thought you sounded like such an idiot."

     "You should be paranoid about your kids' safety."

     "If anyone knew what you were thinking, they'd think you were dirty."

This is total torment.  It's not what Paul meant in Galatians 5:1 when he wrote that it is for freedom that Christ shed His blood and made us free, so "...do not be entangled again with a yoke of bondage." (NKJV).  I am a believer in Christ still in the chains of slavery because there is a piece of my heart that doesn't yet trust Him, and what is our command? "You shall love the Lord your God with ALL your heart..." (Luke 10:27).  A broken heart is unable to fully love God.

My only choice is to fight for the little girl who believed all the lies from so long ago.  She is worth getting to know, and she's worth healing.  I have shed buckets of tears not only for the adult me, but now for the younger, confused me.  I was asked how that little girl feels about Jesus, and realized that she doesn't know Him.  Yes, I now know him, but the little one who first believed the lies didn't....and probably still doesn't.  This may be the beginning of bringing that unbelieving piece of my heart back together with the others.

I need to do some time travel and get to know that little girl.  It's painful to feel her hurts again.  It's beautiful to see the gifts God gave her to cushion her pain.  This wrecks me, completely saps me of energy, and threatens to produce endless tears sometimes.  I must face my burdens head-on in order to lay them down for good.  I'm not there yet, but I've started with no turning back.  Progress is slow, scary, but undoubtedly sweet. In order to love God with my whole heart, I must learn to love a little girl I was forced to despise.  We are promised, "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit." (Psalm 34:18, NIV).  Since I fit that description, I choose to walk through the pain and believe this promise.