For the past several months I have been wordless.
I haven’t had anything I’ve wanted to share. Even now, I don’t know why I am writing. I went as far as to tell people last night, “I hate writing.” Why?
I think I’ve lost its beauty.
I’ve lost truly loving it and well, this loss has caused me to take a step back.
For the past month, all I have seen in myself is a sad broken girl who thinks she knows who she is and can articulate what she needs to fix.
For two days, I go through a terrible phase, run to Jesus pleading for Him to pull me out and then the happy day comes and I forget all my brokenness for a day. But guess what?! It comes back. The brokenness comes again, stays for a while. I cry and plead with God — manipulating Him. Reminding Him I am His daughter, like the older brother did in the Prodigal Son Parable. I bargain and ask for my share. I remind Him, I have remained faithful to Him all these years. Shouldn’t I, from all these other people, not feel broken? I tell Him, “God, I don’t mean to be manipulated like the older brother — but please, just did this one thing I ask. Please. Don’t let me hurt anymore, answer my heart.”
All the while, refusing to believe so, I do try and manipulate. I believe I deserve more than even His love that He pours out on me.
How can I love others if I don’t love myself? I will only love them as I love myself, and if I don’t love myself well — then I can’t love them well!
I was talking to a friend yesterday and he told me the key is to love myself and be content with myself in order to move forward. In order to see my sin, but not break myself over knowing I have sin. Love my being — just like Jesus loves me.
He loves this sad little broken girl and He’s made her into a joyous big pure girl.