Part of me wants to delete yesterday's post, or at the very least hide it away, so that only I know where it is. It seems an embarrassment, a weakness, to be seen to be vulnerable. Allowing myself to be vulnerable is one of the things I'm worst at; I avoid it, and hide my vulnerabilities. I have a compulsion to appear perfect at all times. No one else should have to deal with my mess and brokenness, right? Right? My pastor's heart will always, always have time for someone in need. But, OH the cost to my pride when I need someone there to look after me.
When my head becomes as messy and confused as it has been for the last couple of days, I try and hide. I'll hide in a trashy novel, I'll hide with a DVD, I'll hide on the internet, or I'll just plain fall asleep. I have yet to learn the discipline of always running straight to God. Somehow, I struggle to dive into His Word, or just simply be and hang out in His presence. To complicate things further, I pile guilt on myself, knowing that He should be my hiding place and wondering why exactly I'm not going there. But God speaks, even in the midst of all my hiding. He comes to where I am, and speaks through the places that I allow to speak into my life. Yesterday, He spoke to me through this. The excellent and wonderful Jamie the Very Worst Missionary is aware of where she's not sorted, of where she makes mistakes, but in the midst of that she knows her identity. She knows that she's a child of God, and that her Heavenly Daddy is the only one who has any right to judge her actions. And she has found freedom in that. The point she makes here is that in Eden, before the Fall, Adam and Eve were naked and unashamed. God calls us to be who He created us to be, and to be unashamed in that. As Jamie says, 'Who told you to be ashamed?' Not my Daddy. No, sirree.
I am broken and I am unworthy, but nonetheless I am loved. Jesus bought my freedom, and who am I not to live in that?
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