I have spent a great deal of my life not doing what I desire because of fear. Whether that’s fear of inadequacy or a lack of ingenuity. I remember rejecting the color pink as a young girl because that was what all of the other girls liked. The same went for the movie The Cheetah Girls. I wanted to buy the soundtrack to sing the songs at the top of my lungs and wear wild cat printed clothes to school. But then if I let myself enjoy my desires I would be grouped with the other girls. What if they rejected my attempts to be one of them? I was afraid to have something in common with them because they were prettier, smarter, more popular, and I would simply never measure up to them. That’s how I thought. So I decided to like other things, to place the word “outcast” on my forehead and pretend like I didn’t care. I chopped my own hair off and died it brown, drawing comics and playing video games instead of jamming out to High School Musical or shopping at Hollister.
With rebellion came its own pitfalls. I was lonely. I cut myself off from people because of my fear of rejection. I never really even had the chance to be rejected because I had already rejected myself. I sought out the differents, the outcasts. And we were good matches. I found a family in the weirdos. Soon I liked being different. But then being different became its own form of idolatry. I separated myself from everyone, and a certain thrill came with that. Tattoos, piercings, partying, and everything in between. I stopped caring what others thought, but not in the right way. More in a total disregard for self and fear of being hurt if I let anyone near me kind of way. Cold-hearted is the best way to put it. And it all began with fear of rejection.
Still Jesus whispered to me in those places. He told me that He accepts me, that He loves me. And slowly, I accepted His outstretched arm.
“He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.”” Luke 19:40 ESV
Because even the rocks will cry out in praise of the Lord. Even the coldest, toughest places within myself will cry to Jesus & He will respond. Praise in the heaviness.
In this slow dance with the Lord, He has begun to spin me around. Together we dance and watch the ashes gently sift off of me as He twirls me in His arms. Simply typing that out brings on the feeling of overwhelmed. What does the beauty within my hidden heart places look like? That Lacey within me feels so sacred, so vulnerable, so precious and easily shattered. Yet I’ve left her imprisoned for some time, both hungry and parched. Slowly Jesus has come and helped me open up the rusted gate inside my heart. With a grinding groan of metal, I pull it open. There she is, wild eyed and frantic. Jesus steps slowly to her with His hands up as if trying to soothe a spooked animal. She relents and takes His hand. He guides her to me and I hesitantly embrace her-embrace myself.
Its a slow dance, but I am accepting me. All of me, just the way Jesus does. No rejection, no fear of man. No longer an outcast, merely set apart, designated for something bigger than myself. Called higher and being sent farther. Jesus and I are peeling back the layers. The beauty beneath is simply breathtaking, and all the glory goes to the Lord.
Have you embraced the inner child lost long ago within your heart, the places turned stone in malnourishment? Jesus has, and He wants a relationship with ALL of you, to bring beauty from the crystallized ashes.