Wednesday, December 16, 2015

provoking the green monster

For a long time I didn't want to admit it. I didn't want to admit that I was a twenty-two year old--who has been married for three years.

Who has two kids.
Who is a stay-at-home-mom.
Who is Asian.
Who is "doing nothing" with the degree she earned.
Who gets help from [wonderful] government programs like Women, Infants, and Children (WIC).

You seriously have no idea how hard it was to write that last sentence. I wrote it. Deleted it. Watched my cursor blink a hundred times before trying to type it out again. It makes me feel like the embodiment of a stereotype I grew up never wanting to associate with.

The truth.
I avoided the truth at the expense of freedom. [tweet]
That's what I didn't want to admit (and clearly, I still don't go bragging about it).

For the longest time I wanted you to want my life. Not because it was anything great, but because you wanting it made me feel like it was worth something.

You know what I mean. Maybe you don't really like your life; but if you didn't tell the whole truth about who you are, then others might like your life and you might like it more in turn.

We don't like to admit the truth. The truth is raw and leaves us naked and ashamed. It's partial to no one--and that's the problem. Because we want to present ourselves as good when we're far from it.

We don't admit the truth. We live with lies and no one says anything about it. We give each other grace by leaving our skeletons in their closets. We "love" each other this way.

But can we call it love if it doesn't heal us?
Can we call it grace if it doesn't save us?
Are we really living if we're cowering in fear of discovery?

For the longest time I avoided telling you that I had married young, had kids young, graduated college but wasn't working--the truth--because I wanted you to want my life. And that life--my life, as it truly is--isn't one I thought you'd want.

I avoided the truth at the expense of freedom. When I kept my mess under the rug, I kept my message under the rug along with it. My message that declared the reach of God's grace, the extent of His love, and the weight of His power in my life.

My message of how I found freedom in spite of myself. Without the ugly part of my life, the beautiful part was gone, too.

Want my life? Don't. You can't handle it. Only Jesus can take my pride issues, my denial issues, my issues issues issues. I am a mess. I'm seeing more and more why I can't save myself, why I need Jesus.

Will you be brave with me and let your life be a testimony of God's power? Let your life point to His saving love?

"God intended that they would seek Him and perhaps reach out for Him and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us" (Acts 17:27 Berean Study Bible).

with much love,