afraid to write

“the thing you are most afraid to write, write that.”
This quote has sat in the draft section of this blog for about a year. I see it each time I log in and each time before this I said “no way”; The quote makes sense to me, because I think most often what we are afraid to write, or speak or share, or let the world see is linked to the things that make us vulnerable. It just seemed too big to tackle.
But this week I responded to a banterous comment in a way I never have before, and the response came back something like this:
‘well, there speaks a women who is healed’
A tiny, throw-away comment, made over lunch in the midst of a busy day in a busy week. But it stayed with me and has been playing over in my head since then.
And I think this is why.
Because this week I didn’t get upset, or offended, or angry. I didn’t take the comment as a reflection on my character, or identity. The words of someone else did not effect me in the way that they had done in the past.
And tonight as I have sat down to write after not writing in so long, I have begun to see that above everything else that has happened, God has and is healing me.
He has slowly, gently, beautifully picked up the pieces of me that made me misunderstand my identity and showed me the truth.
The truth that my identity is in Him. That my identity has nothing to do with my face or body shape. It has nothing to do with the things others say or do in regards to me. My identity is not as short or brunette or loud or extroverted or introverted or organised or messy. My identity has nothing to do with the boxes and structures we humans seem to love to place one another in.
It is 100% to do with Him.
My identity is to do with pointing to Him, worshiping Him, following Him.
His creation of humankind, His love as a Father, as a King, as a Friend. His desire to be close and in relationship with us. My identity is in that relationship, in His grace (which I am forever trying to understand), in His might and wonder. In His love, compassion and heartache for the world.
I’ve been scared to make public, to write the process of it all. I’ve been scared to make public that I have had to ask the King of Heaven to break down walls and chisel off things I have held so tightly to, scared to admit that I have hidden behind causes and false ‘independent women’ statements rather than dealing with the pain or the anger.
I still do not have it all together, I still over-think sometimes and get offended and angry. I still have things in me which need healing. But I no longer find myself walking into every room with the need to prove something.
 He is enough for me, and by His grace He accepts me as I am.
So I am going to write, to be disciplined and write.
About the journey, and the reality of it all. About the things which make me a bit afraid and vulnerable.
I will always try to point to God, to Jesus in it all, because I do not know anything else in the world that is more real or wonderful than them.
R/

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