Who Do I Say I Am?

    “Who am I?”

    People ask that question concerning themselves, and sometimes they can be completely sure, and others have no clue.  I guess I am in a position where I feel like I know who I should be.  Yet, I still hear the lingering voices from my past that blare out a noise that I have spent my life warring.  Some of these voices were forgotten; how easy it is to not mind when once what was in front of you no longer is.  Since my big brother’s moving away to YWAM, I have been forced to shift to a new normal, and discover the logic I have held for certain habits and thought-patterns; godly or not.  

    I don’t like to be alone.  Yes, I know that God is with me, but it is different when there is a physical presence.  Sure, I grew up strong in the Lord and I love being able to mentor others to grow in Him, but it was quite a burden when I felt that I had to take care of my parents spiritually.  I carry everything, because I don’t like to be a burden.  I was told not to bother other people.   I’ve learned to not depend on others.  And yet, I wish I could be carried.   Moreover, I play it tough, so I can carry my own junk.  I have a hard time trusting people with myself.   I don’t have many girl friends, simply because my interests tend to align with that of boys.  Frankly, I didn’t have a close relationship with my mom, but I had a close relationship with my dad, so I learned to depend on men more than women.  I guess I could say that I have had a lot of friends, but honestly, I only had one to three friends ever at a time know what was REALLY going through my brain.

    Growing up, I felt I was never enough...and these are not just wounds from my mother.  The irony is I have already forgiven and healed from those wounds.  I saw where she was coming from, and only working out of what she knew.   I realized my father carried some wounds, as well.   When I saw the depravity of their understanding, I no longer held them accountable for the hurts they caused.  

    The wounds that I am still carrying, however; the ones that still shape how I see myself in the mirror include that which were words spoken or done by individuals whom I believe in my heart, should have known better.  They are mature Christians, and yet, they acted in certain ways that made me become quiet and reserved; pushed in a model which was not formed for me.  Note: not all the wounds were carried by the same person, and different wounds brought forth different habits. 

    To prove that I didn’t have to be a specific type of girl, I made myself more masculine.  To exemplify that I had a legitimate thought, I write it down in secrecy instead of sharing it verbally.  (How many of my blog posts have actually been shared with other people?  How often have they just been published but left to be a public journal, never read, except by the author?)  In my wounds I have believed many lies.

    I have believed that to be without a kind word must mean I am not loved or cherished.  I have believed that to not be invited means I have been forgotten.  I have believed that people come to me more what they want and need, rather than seeking my needs.  I have believed that I don’t have value.  I have believed that my performance and outcome determines my identity.  I have believed that to need someone during my hurt means to burden them, and makes me less of a Christian.  I have believed that I must not be woman enough, because I don’t inhabit certain skills (such as cooking, cleaning, sewing, etc...homemaker skills!).  I have believed that I must not be beautiful, if I have to dress up and wear make-up to gain a man’s attention. I have believed that I could not share my thoughts, because I am too deep for people to understand or comprehend.  I have believed that when I disagree, then I must be argumentative.  I have believed that I keep my trap shut, because to bring a genuine hurt to someone means that I am holding something against them.   I have believed that I am not doing enough, if I am not busy ministering at every moment I can. I have believed hate and forgiveness in the face of injustice can be justified.

    And yet, I have wondered, simultaneously…

    I have wondered if I am so strong, why can’t anyone else carry me?  Is it wrong to ask for a hug or to wish people invited me more?  Am I truly forgotten?  I have wondered, is it really my thought when there are differences of opinion.  Am I always wrong?  Should I always stay quiet?  Can I say something bold, and yet not fear that family and friends won’t take offense?  Is the devil really using me as a tool when I disagree?  Am I ministering with compassion or enabling bad habits when I make myself available? Does a dress define a woman?  Do certain skills or interests define the measure of a wife?  How can one go to one group of people and love them with Christ’s love, but yet, speak so ill of another group?  Am I good enough as me?

    I realize this seems like the most random of questions, and yet, at one point or time, I have had to question them with someone.  Most often, concerning someone who is close to me.  Dang.  The deepest hurts come from those who are closest.  The greatest of all these questions, whether they be the lies or the rebuttals, is why do I care what someone else says?  Why am I giving their voice the foundational determinant of who I am and how well I am walking in my calling?  They are not the ones who made my mouth, nor my given me my staff of skills by which I walk.  Truth is, there is still an effort to prove who I am is still good enough.  There is still a longing in my heart that I am found by the ones who I actually care about their opinion; my family.

    I want them to be proud of me.  And it has been said before, but there are those remembrances of the past that make me question, according to their standard, if I am matching up to par? And I have always hated feeling like I had fallen short.  And yet...I know that God loves me.  To let that sink in actually can break me.  To admit the hurts I have kept within myself turns my temper and releases my tears.  There is an inward push to change their minds, and yet, I wonder if I am capable.  To leave things undone, relationally, spurs on my anxiousness more than anything. 

     There have been quite a few battles recently; many which question my effectiveness in my calling, but also as a woman, and as Laura Emily.  This is a lot of random questions; many which seem unanswered, except for the daily walking out what I only know by faith.  Continuing day by day, and not overnight will the healing and rerouting of old thoughts be transformed to new.  Yet, if I continue to allow God to unearth the lies, then perhaps I can face the reasons why I believed them in the first place. If I realize the initial logic, perhaps I can apply God’s logic to my life, and a new trajectory can be formed.   It starts with declaring what He has said about me.

Declaration:

Who am I?  I am the daughter of the Most High King.  I bear His mark, and His wrists bear the mark of my salvation.  I am gracious and covered in His mercy.  The outcome of my day does not determine my worth or identity.  I fight in the power of His strength, rather than in the power of my own might.  I am loved and cherished.  I am fierce.  His boldness seeps into my character - I am thoughtful and considerate.  I am remembered by the One who made me, and His arms never tire from carrying me.  I am fully known.  I was made perfectly; just perfect without any blemish.  I have been fashioned specifically for the woman I am meant to be, and not how other women have been called.  The role I play is intuitive for the needs that face me immediately, whether it is desired or not, by my audience.  I am a giver of Peace in the anxious storms.  I am the singer of Goodness when despair is crouching.  I am the introducer of Hope to a world filled with darkness.  I am a bringer of Joy to a land of sorrows.  I am an ambassador of heaven to earth.  I am clothed in His riches, rather than confined by the words of my peers.   I am not a mistake, but here for a purpose.  My mind dives deep, because my Father has no end.  There is a desire for Him to fill me more and more.  Sometimes I feel lost and confused.  I wonder if I am on track or failing in all fronts.  But I am led by my God with His hand holding mine.  Whoever I am, it can be summed up in this: I am His!

If Heaven Were...

“Then [Moses] said to Him, ‘If Your Presence does not go with us, do not bring us up from here.”

- Exodus 33:15

If heaven were

Filled with wonder:

Where the streets made of gold,

Gems built the bricks of mansions;

If heaven’s clouds were molded from crystals,

I was adorned with robes and jewels,

The seas carried colors

More than the clear blue,

Yet You were not there,

I would not find any reason to go.

If heaven were as grand

As the elders have told,

Only but a hint, for they too lost words…

A peace where enemies call each other friends,

Where tears no longer find strength to show.

If heaven was filled with shades

Of rainbows unnamed by Eve’s sons,

Yet Adam’s promised Redeemer

Was unable to reveal His face,

I would have no part in it.

For though heaven is

The home of eternal life,

Without the name of Christ,

It would already be death

To my ears.

But if heaven were

Lined streets of asphalt

Accompanied with potholes,

The mansions were shacks of wood,

My clothes made of rags,

The skies turned gray

In the middle of the day,

Yet Your presence was all around me,

I would be at rest.

If heaven included

The uncertain...

Heartache and pain,

Struggling to find my needs met

By this world’s substances;

Tears spilled

Pursued by a groaning heart in prayer.

Endurance the gift given to sustain,

And yet, unforsaken, You sat with me,

Here I would choose to stay.

For Heaven would be nothing

If You, God, were not there.

As I wait in between earth and what’s to be,

As temptations attempt to ravish my soul,

May I remember while in my anxiousness:

If there is but one definition

Of this place I am to call home,

It is that I am enveloped in the arms

Of the One who saved and embraced me.

A Conversation Between God and Satan

I’ve been working through a lot of hurts from the past.  Specifically parental wounds that have shaped how I have believed, thought, and acted.  None of these wounds were intentional, but from the context of seeing things from my own lenses, it affected me on a deeper level that has only leaked bit by bit through the years.  In the last six weeks, I’ve been dealing with these wounds on a greater depth than I could’ve imagined. The catalyst was my big brother moving to YWAM for six months, and he was one of two close friends I have, thus, circumstantially have been struggling with loneliness and depression.  Gotta ask myself the reason for it, however. And it stems back to the pains of emotional absences from my mother, feeling like I had to take care of my family spiritually, as well as feeling like I had to earn my parents’ love. Again, none of this was intentional, but it happened. And now, 28-years-old, I am flushing out all the crap that has subconsciously been sown into my head.  God has also been cutting into my heart as with a surgical knife. It hurts. I want the healing, but the deeper I get the emotional and spiritual gout, it is painful at moments. Even on a nightly basis. But I know that it will benefit me in the end.

I came from church one afternoon, and started crying again about the knowledge that God loves me, and the truth of the matter that I have not fully received His love.  I knew He loves me, but I habitually aimed to earn it. Any time I sinned, I felt that I couldn’t go near to God, because I can I approach Him if I was so filthy? And if that is the case, could God ever be proud of me?  These were the lines that unbeknownst to me, I believed. As I cried with this realization, a story came to mind. Not saying that this conversation actually happened, but the picture of Satan and God debating their plans for me came to mind.  Perhaps it is a way to see how God was with me, even in the midst of my wounds. How He never left me, and how He is healing me.

*I did change names to protect family members’ identities.  The only name I kept is my own.

A Supposed Conversation:

[Sounds of a baby heart-beat]

SATAN: [Standing center, next to a cradle and with disgust] Oh great.  Another wretched human conceived.  Yuck!

GOD: [Jumps in with a big smile, very excited and looking at the cradle] Oh yes!  Her time is starting!  I can’t wait until she’s born!

SATAN: Seriously? [Looks at God as if He is crazy.]  I mean she was kind of unplanned.  Her parents hardly know each other.  You’re happy?

GOD: Unplanned to them, sure, but I knew exactly when she would come to the earth.  I meant for her to be born for such a time as this.

SATAN:  [Disgusted] Stop with all the mushiness [acts as if he is going to puke].  You’re always like that with your humans.

GOD: You mean, My children?

SATAN: Yeah, whatever.  You know that not all of them decide to call You, ‘Daddy’ like You wish, right?

GOD: And, your point is?

SATAN:  I bet I can make her like one of them.  She’ll deny You. She’ll curse You. I bet You...I can make her turn away.  Oh look...see that artery leading up to the brain...I just need to [Satan’s hand grips the artery closing the blood off from the brain]...Got it!  Ha! Just wait a few minutes and You’ll see her not be the way You made her. [He grins sadistically.]

[Child seems to be sleeping soundly for a moment.  Then screams (from the crib) in the womb out of sheer pain...her body goes limp. God takes a hold of Satan’s wrist and twists it.]

SATAN:  Ug! Ouch! What are You doing?!

GOD: [His hands untangle Satan’s grip, and then lays His hands on her brain. With a very serious, and angry tone] She will live and not die.

SATAN: [Frustrated] Ooo!  Why are You always screwing up my plans!?

GOD: [Holding the child in His arms, sternly, but then almost snootily] I could ask you the very same thing.  But then again...You have never been able to succeed in that.

SATAN: Whatever.  I did enough damage to Your “precious one”.  That stroke is going to define her and all that she aims for.

GOD:  [Lays the child down in the cradle in between the two] And how do you manage that will happen?

SATAN:  She will first feel unwanted.  By the way, did you see how her opa reacted to her conception?

[A young woman and older gentleman stand to stage right.  Both are on the phone with each other.]

YOUNG WOMAN (MOTHER): [Hesitant and sounding like she had been crying.] Hi...Hi Dad.  How are you doing?

OPA: Doing great.  Uh… is everything okay?

YOUNG WOMAN: Um...Dad.  I’m pregnant.

OPA: [Shocked and angry] What!?  Who’s the father?  What the hell were you thinking?  Damn it, Jane!

[CLICK.  Side stage turns dark and lights focus on God and Satan.]

GOD: Yes.  But did you see how her grandfather responded?

[Stage Left: A young man with an older father on phones.]

YOUNG MAN (FATHER): Oh. Hey Dad.

GRANDFATHER: Sam, how’s it going?

FATHER: Um.  Not too good.  I just found out my girlfriend’s pregnant.

GRANDMOTHER’S VOICE IN THE BACKGROUND: Ray, who is it, darling?

GRANDFATHER:  It’s Sam. [Has a little smile.] He tells me that you’re gonna be a grandma again.  [Turns his direction toward Sam.]  How are dealing with this?

FATHER:  I don’t know what to do, Dad.

[Scene fades out.  Focus is back on God and Satan.]

GOD: There will be people who will see the blessing she is.  And for her opa...He’ll catch on too. Her mother, no matter what anyone said, already decided to have her.

[Voice over] MOTHER: Laura, I still would’ve had you even if your dad left.

GOD: And the cool part is, he will stick around.  They’ll be getting married almost a year after she’s born.

SATAN:  [Clasps his hands together, sarcastically]  And it’s just happily ever after!  Get real, God! You know it doesn’t work like that.  I have just instigated a domino effect where Your little “darling” will either doubt You or herself for her entire life.  [Picks up the child from her cradle.]  That stroke will first inhibit her physically.  From past diagnoses, I believe the doctors will say she has cerebral palsy.  She will have problems with her speech, her ability to walk. You cut me short, so I don’t think she’ll be in a wheelchair, but I’m sure she’ll have her complications. [Sneers at God.]

GOD: Her mother has the knowledge and wisdom to help her.  She will go through therapy. The child will walk. She will run.  She will speak. I will even give her the ability to sing.

SATAN: For what?  She won’t ever become famous.  And for her mother - I have followed her for as long as she’s been alive, and she has her own hurts and fears.  She has learned to callous her heart to protect from any more hurt.  Any good that does her. She won’t even know that she will wound her own child.

GOD: [Takes the child from Satan.] You are correct in saying that her mother has her own hurts.  But you are misled to think that her mother ceases to love her.  No parent (apart from Me) is perfect, nonetheless, they still care for their children.  I have given her mother gifts and talents that will be used to pour out her love for her.  Yes, I see the wounds you speak of. They will last into adulthood. However, they will not last for her entire life.  Little Laura will heal, forgive and understand in time how her mother showed her love.

SATAN:  And what of her dad?  The drunk. I bet when your little girl’s a teen, she’ll be cozying up to a sugar daddy, because of his addiction.

GOD:  He will come and meet Me in a few years in Denver.  From that moment on, he will leave the bottle and smokes in the trash.  Laura and her father will be like two peas in a pod.

[Background worship scene from a Promise Keepers event.]

FATHER: God, I’m so sorry for my sins.  I want to leave it all behind. I believe that Your Son, Jesus, came and died for me.  Please help me, God. And help me to be a better husband and father.

[Another voice over.  A young woman, an adult version of the child is telling her friend a story about her dad.]

LAURA: My dad was always supportive.  I remember when I wanted to play softball.  Of course, that was going to be different, because I only have one hand working.  But Dad took some time to see what he could do. He remembered a one-armed pitcher, and taught me to catch and throw like he did.

SATAN: [Mockingly] And everything is just fixed.  No, God. Things aren’t just fixed in a few years.  I have followed little Laura’s parents long enough to know that they carry their own scars.  They will carry it into their marriage, and how they raise her, as well as [gulps] God-willing [looks up and down at God] how many other children they will have.  No, she’s going to have her own battles.

Because I will come into their home, and I will whisper in each of their ears.  Old hurts, mindsets, and habits will resurface as I just prop a situation to react.  They will turn on each other rather than fighting me. They will seek their own interests rather than one another’s.  

Your “precious child” will pick up on her father’s temper.  She will inherit her mother’s anxiousness and stubbornness. You said she will will run…[Looks as if he just got an idea.] Yes!  She’ll run the race I set her on!  She will be running circles proving herself.  She’ll focus on earning her parents’ love, especially when she makes a mistake (and then, they overreact).  She will carry burdens never meant for her to bear. She will not be content unless she is as strong as her peers.  I will make her always longing for affection aside from You (because with You being invisible and all, it’s kind of hard for You to actually be near).  Whether it be from friends, her parents, her future husband, her kids...she will define herself by the love others give her…[With a sly grin] And, she will become discouraged when she goes without.  

She will wonder what is wrong with her...When all that You [points at God] say is that she is good enough in Your eyes.  She will feel the pressures of perfection...Hhmmm...an eating disorder and self-harm sound like good curve-balls.  Maybe even suicidal thoughts. Oh, just wait God. [Almost laughing] I’ll make life interesting for Your baby girl.

[God is still holding the child in His arms.  He is now glaring at Satan.]

SATAN: What?  Got nothing to say?  See, Your stillness is only a facade.  You are not as great as You declare.

[God lays the child back in her crib, as He rises, He says]

GOD: [Angered, but calm] Do you dare question Me?  It is hideous enough that you aim your fiery arrows toward her.  Now, let Me tell you My plans, and prove that you have not thwarted anything at all.  Yes, she will struggle as you have mentioned. I see her future, and she will have many tears.  She will question if she is really loved and wanted. She will have her own fears of inadequacies.  But she will laugh, and she will know Me. [God gives a small smile.]

And as she grows into a woman, she will know Me deeper and more intimately.  She will see that she has been loved all along, and I was with her. She will know that her hurts are not in vain.  She will see the beauty I have given her. She will be able to speak to youth about their identity. She will encourage students who are suicidal to keep going on.  She will love the orphans of this world, because I already loved her before she ever felt disowned. She will forgive her parents, and love them where they are. She will encourage people to raise from the ashes of the dead places in their lives.  She will feel your bullets deeply, but that will spur her to love deeply causing a ripple of healing beyond her immediate reach.

She is a blessing and a gift.  I will put in her My consuming fire in which she will speak boldly about My love, grace, and truth.  Her gift of photography will capture the beauty of My creation, and testify of My greatness to those around her.  She will sing in her joy and in her pain, choosing to worship and trust Me through it all. In her loneliness, she will write and pray.  Things will be penned that even after she has passed will continue to sow seeds.  [Angers grow to almost livid.  God steps toward Satan.] Just as My Son’s scars carry the story of salvation, the scars that she bears because of [points at Satan; Satan falls to the ground] you will carry a story of redemption.  The things you plan will not overcome her, because I will be in her!

How dare you touch the apple of My eye! [Thunders and lightning for the moment.  God continues to step toward Satan. Satan is crawling backward.]  And to think that you have the audacity to approach My throne and tell me your plan!   [God is standing over Satan, and Satan is cowering] Are YOU crazy!  Satan, you will not win, because you cannot win!  My firstborn Son, Jesus [Satan cries out in pain at the mention of His name] ALREADY defeated you!  Get out of My sight, and wander until your doom!  But just one thing before you go, let Me let you know:  I have seen her life until the very end. I have given my daughter the gift of endurance, and with that she will gain the victory I have set before her!  Now get! [God kicks at Satan as Satan gets up and runs away.]    

[God calmly goes back to the crib and picks up the child.]

GOD: [Smiling and making silly sounds]  Hi, there, Laura Emily.  Yes, you are such a joy and delight!  Ha! I can’t wait until you are born. I know it’s not always going to be easy, but I will be there every step of the way.  Don’t you forget that. Ha! I love you so much!!! Now, I’m gonna get to hold you until your momma has you.  [Baby coos and squeals.] Yes!  That’s what I’ll do.  You’re going to laugh so much it’ll be silly.  You will be a child at heart. Because you [pointing at the child] are and always will be my baby girl.  

[Stage goes black.]