The truth about this blog is that I began writing it in February, but I
have been avoiding finishing it because of various excuses. I’ve
recently been challenged to sit down and actually evaluate these walls
that I have up, and I find it interesting that I stumbled back across
this unfinished blog today. I ended up writing an 1800 word essay on my
walls, but figured you wouldn’t want to sit through and read it all.
Instead, I will spare you the messy details and give a brief summary of
what the Lord has been showing me.
The recovery process is no fun, no matter what you may be recovering from. I remember after different surgeries I’ve had there was a lot of pain, but in order to be healed I had to go through that pain. The past few months have been a healing process for me. I would like to say that I’m in recovery right now, but the truth is I am in the operating room instead. My heart is being fixed and the walls are being torn down one by one. I have two choices, go in, allow the Lord to bring healing to some very broken places in my heart no matter how painful it is, or to keep trying to self-medicate, pretending that the pain isn’t really there and suffering through it all.
Over the years I have allowed myself to be chained inside these walls. I am like a mad man trying to escape from behind prison walls. I have been building up walls for as long as I can remember to help mask the pain and pretend it’s not really there. The problem with that is, no matter how hard I try, I have to keep adding more walls to protect me just a little bit longer but being trapped inside with no visible way out. It’s hard for me to believe that people would venture out into this darkness to help me walk through the pains and emotions from the past. Previously when I’ve tried to seek help and counsel I was judged and looked upon as unclean or unworthy of being saved. So now I sit behind these crumbling and shaky walls, desperately wanting to cry out and be saved but so afraid of being rejected yet again.
On the walls are shelves upon shelves of jars. These jars are full of the lies that I have believed and instead of throwing them out like the garbage they are, I sweep them back up, put them in a replacement jar, and place it right back up on the shelf. Why do I continually seek after satisfaction in things I know are lies, in things I know to be full of shame, guilt, hurts and fears?
Some days I get so frustrated with being stuck inside,
from being trapped by the memories, the walls and the lies that all I want to
do is give up. Everyone else has given up, why not me? Why do I keep trying?
Why do I continue holding on, day after day?
I hold on because God is calling out to me. He is the one
that I hear in the distance, but oftentimes I can’t see him. He is the one that
is trying to reach out to me and instead of letting him in, I continue trying
to clean up this dark and dirty mess. I try to clean myself up so that one day
when he finally comes to rescue me I will be presentable. The walls lie to me.
The jars remind me. And I listen. I live inside these walls because it is more
comfortable than walking in the unknown, and walking in the light. It is safer
to continue cleaning up this mess than to walk out the door and allow God to
bulldoze it all. Watching my life crumble to pieces before my eyes is a
terrifying thought. Knowing that the walls that I have made my home behind are
gone is frightening because that is all I’ve allowed myself to know. I’m tired of living afraid and all
alone. I am tired of being held captive by my past mistakes and failures.
