Being strong all the time is a very stressful business.
Showing no weakness, no vulnerability to those around me who loved me was a very stressful business.
God was in my heart, in my life, but I could not hand over the stress. In my heart of hearts, I still did not trust him to help me where I needed it the most.
In doing life on my own, I came close to a nervous breakdown. I started to loose sleep, my mind started racing, I faced many realities that I had never faced before: yes I am fallible, yes I could loose my mind and physically, emotionally fall apart if I keep doing what I am doing.
I escaped on an adventure backpacking overseas to seek God, to try and find him and break free from how I was living life, knowing God must have a better way for me.
In a time of prayer, God showed me a picture door. It was a door he had been knocking on for some time in my heart. A door to a little room.
"Can I come in?" was his gentle request.
"No way!",was my immediate response.
His gentle voice became persistent, "Can I come in?".
God gave me another picture. It was a picture of the inside of this little room. The inside of the door was padlocked. Across every wall were pictures, images of the things, people, fear, control that I had used to help me be strong and survive my life alone - independent and strong. There was nothing of God in this room. I did not like what I saw.
God’s gentle voice could be heard in my spirit, ‘Can I come in?’
A battle raged. If I did not like what I saw – how was God going to react if I let him in?!
Great fear arose within me,a fears that had dominated my life: rejection.
Would God reject me?
Would he show great disappointment when he opened the door?
Would he tell me how bad I was in having this room, would he judge me?
The thoughts were terrifying as I knew if God rejected me I had nothing else to fall back on, and the despair and fear of this became almost palatable as I wrestled with God in trusting him enough to open the door he was so keen to open.
I became desperate.
On one side, I was desperate not to be rejected, not to feel the pain of God being disappointed in me. In my heart of hearts, I knew I could not recover from God’s rejection.
Yet, on the other side, I was desperate not to be alone in this room anymore, desperate for this God to really KNOW ME to be vulnerable at last, to move into deeper relationship with him.
I did not trust him enough to know what would happen when I opened the door to my little room.
I was so fearful when I finally whispered in my spirit, quieter than the whisper of a mouse, "Yes Jesus, come in."
I slowly pushed the door ajar, and peeked out knowing Jesus would be standing there. I was overwhelmed and shocked at what I saw.
Jesus was crying.
Crying?!
My heart broke under the love and acceptance I felt deep in my spirit.
Jesus wept knowing the fear and pain I had locked myself into my whole life.
He wept out of love for me, his love that had waited for years for me to reach out to him and want to know him more. I had extended a pathetic hand of faith and trust, risking it all and it had been embraced strongly by a love so overpowering and real that words fail to express it.
My heart began to sing a song of hope as I too began to weep.
I wept tears of grief, tears of sadness and tears of joy being held in the loving arms of Jesus.
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