Coming Home ?

"I was wounded."
"There is this issue that keeps coming up."
"I went through counseling, but it's still a work in progress."

I have uttered all of these or similar phrases - especially in the recent months. I have walked around with a wound in my foot, uncertain of what freedom looks like and after the years the limp seems normal. Freedom sounds more like a myth; dancing a nightmarish task - better to stay "a work in progress". This last week has brought a lot of these internal struggles to head. From anxiety, to tears I have said these phrases much more often and began to wonder what they meant.

"I was wounded."

Wounded by what? Was it terminal? Will the mark fade, or is the limp permanent? Why was I wounded? Are we all wounded? How does this wound affect me? Is this wound preventing my freedom? Have I actually been walking in freedom, but just not willing to take on the level of responsibility freedom has?

Let me say that last part again, but in a different way.

A child longs for freedom, the ability to make their own choices and direct their own life. But honestly, who is going to let their four year old free to roam in a city of a few million people? That would be reckless and your child would be taken away from your for such irresponsibility. In order to allow a child the freedom the desire, they have to show the capacity to carry its weight. To sound cheesy - Freedom is not free. Rather it demands that the child is no longer a child, but rather an individual able to handle making tough decisions, using discernment, common sense and have the knowledge necessary to decide.

While we all may say "I want to be free", to be free is to leave the confines of our parent; their protection, their immediate supervision and counsel. They are ever accessible but the weight of life is on our own shoulders. I wonder then, if in the process of being wounded that being sheltered from the crazy of the world did not become more enticing than freedom? After the imago Dei has been marred, who really wants to put ourselves back out there? I believe we are given time to heal, but the problem is many of us stay in hospice though we have made a full recovery. Imagine being fed, sheltered, entertained, and cared for without ever having to make an effort, never having to take a risk? Us wounded ones find this option wonderfully inviting.

After years of staying in recovery, we can begin to believe we will never be more than what we were - a wounded broken soul. We have built our lives around the wound - our friendships, our hobbies, our relationships (even those most intimate), our view of God, our way of worship, how we breath is shaped around that gaping hole. But once the hole is filled, are we really willing to reframe our life? Restructuring our world to a new way of being, that cannot be pre-wound nor like in recovery?

This has been mulling around in my heart, and my head. Pushing its way through the dusty hallways of my soul, shedding light on my own weaknesses. At the same time another melody has been playing. I am a singer, my life revolves around music. I hear life through various notes and keys. As I have been struggling with 'being wounded' I have heard this song play over, and over, and over in my head. It is as though God Himself is singing the song - drawing me to Him. Seeking me out in the midst of the chaos to remind me of Himself. Yes, I've been wounded. I've walked with a limp for far too long. But as I step forth out of the darkness I hope to come face to face with the Light and let Truth flood this heart once again. This is the beginning of something, and I look forward to running Home.
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I am the Lord your God, I go before you now
I stand beside you, I'm all around you
Though you feel I'm far away, I'm closer than your breath
I am with you, more than you know

I am the Lord your peace, no evil will conquer you
Steady now your heart and mind, come into My rest
Oh, let your faith arise, lift up your weary head
I am with you wherever you go

Come to Me, I'm all you need.
Come to Me, I'm everything
Come to Me, I'm all you need.
Come to Me, I'm your everything

I am your anchor, in the wind and the waves
I am your steadfast, so don't be afraid
Though your heart and flesh may fail you, I'm your faithful strength
I am with you wherever you go

Come to Me, I'm all you need.
Come to Me, I'm your everything
Come to Me, I'm all you need.
Come to Me, I'm your everything

Don't look to the right or to the left but keep your eyes on Me
You will not be shaken, you will not be moved ooh
I am the hand to hold, I am the truth, I am the way
Just come to Me, come to Me, cause I'm all that you need

http://youtu.be/sY0Vz8fvIhE

Reminders of Failure

I keep a picture of a friend above my stove. I put her face there, hoping it would remind me to pray for her, to call her regularly, and keep up a friendship with her lost soul.

I set an alarm in my phone, that goes off everyday reminding me to pray for my best friend's daughter. I realized that while my friend may not change her life, her daughter is just beginning it so my daily prayer for her could change something.

Instead of praying after seeing my friend's face - I cringe and try to not look at the stove because of the depth of guilt I feel for not calling her.

Instead of stopping and praying at the alarm, I put it on snooze and forget. The next time I silence it, and feel guilty after a few days so I pray a quick prayer at some point in the day to make up for my slackerness.

I have a stack of books to the right of my futon, and a couple journals. There is dust on all of them.

The spiritual and practical 'to do list' is longer than the day, and as every evening comes I feel the weight of a day unfinished, tasks left undone.
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Ask any coworker, any boss, ask my parents, my friends, my husband, my daughter - follow through is my failure. Everyday I face mirrors of these failures - reminders of my shortcomings and the reflections are sometimes too much to handle.

Yet I am also reminded by how many times I am affirmed, how often people talk about my quality of work, compliment the job well done. It's funny - when you don't let words hurt you, they tend to not help you either. Or put another, more personal way - perhaps I don't lack confidence just in God like I always presumed, maybe I lack confidence in me too. If I think about it, the lack I see in me I project into God - assuming my shortcomings will be His and my failures restricting His success.

You can laugh at those ideas, but when one truly believes anything even the most twisted lie becomes truth.
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Maybe you're right
And I'm not as certain as I thought
Maybe I'm wrong
And it's not as bad as I saw
Maybe it's fine
And we need to begin to hear

Open these ears
To know the melodies of truth
Break open the skies
Letting the light mold our eyes
Catch the tears
Of the thousands unsaid prayers

Maybe we fell
And thought we'd never get up again
Maybe they failed
And broke our hearts in the process
Maybe our souls
can be mended to sing again

I am so self-absorbed
Self obsessed
Self sustained
A one person circus
A one man band
A one member Body
A self contained church

Yet we long for approval
For affirmation
For home
For a friend

We are all searching for acceptance
A safe haven to rest our hearts
Laying it all on the line with everyone else
I don't doubt it can happen
But sometimes wonder where it is

Maybe You're right
And it starts with love and obedience
Maybe I'm made right
Not a mistake needing to be something else
Maybe the person of Truth
Is waiting to make it all right again?

God break down these towers
The lies that You are not enough
That You are not able
That You don't want my best
Break my heart and let the waters flow 
Over the fields of rejection
Putting out the flames of fame & recognition
Let the waters flood these barren hearts
Then maybe healing will begin
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