I originally wrote this on March 1, 2011. Decluttering my laptop a few days ago, I found it in a forgotten folder. A manifesto, of sorts, of a blogger and a girl living in a broken world. Although some of this struggle is still relevant, this was the 3 a.m. turning point when I first let go of “the savior complex.”
It is one of my deepest desires to be an instrument of joy, to use my talents for hope, to refresh everyone I come in contact with. I long to be transparent and selfless and only God-focused, to embrace my crippled state even as I seek, seek, seek the ability to fly.
I long to be bold in my faith, to never again hesitate or second guess what I know, inexplicably, to be true. I long to minister to other women. My soul really is as dramatic as David’s, my heart joyful to the brim and tearful to overflowing, and I really wish I could just let it be without timidly toning it down to the culturally acceptable understatements and cool-headedness that pervade my life.
Yet, I struggle. I want all these things, to encourage, to comfort, to share – without the pressure of pleasing, of living up to a reputation, of anything being about me.
Tonight, suddenly engulfed in the self doubt that, these days, is so very familiar to me (but from which, I believe, God is setting me free), I lay in bed unable to sleep, frustrated beyond words with the many thorns that fill my sides, longing to be free, bitter tears dripping down my skin. I begged, I pleaded, I cried out in the ache of knowing that I was made for more than the cyclical fears that know my name so well, of longing to give encouragement even as I doubted my motives.
I couldn’t sleep, so I picked up my copy of Beth Moore’s study Breaking Free, picked up where I had left off yesterday, and began to read, fill in the blanks, and flip through my Bible.
God, I said, I will not start anything until you tell me explicitly that you want me to, and what you want me to say.
The next thing I read was Isaiah 61:1-4: “The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners…”
And then I realized, that is Christ’s job, and His alone. I cannot, nor can I try, nor should I attempt to. However, as He preaches the good news to my impoverished soul, as he binds up my heart, as he proclaims my freedom and pours light down into all my faultlines and fissures, it is my joy to celebrate and share with you the living of a life made beautiful.