Broken...

B

Broken. As I sat listening to the words of our new Associate Pastor this morning, the tears began to fall. He struck a chord with me. He was talking about putting our best foot forward, and the way we always try to have an awesome first impression.  Then he said that when we meet Jesus, He doesn't want our image of "perfection" , but rather our brokenness and shortcomings. He wants to get right to work on our faults. To mold us more into His image. (Obviously, I'm giving you my version...it was quite the awesome sermon, and I just hope I don't tear it to shreds with my short tidbit of it!)
Isn't that so true? We all know that, don't we? But why is that so hard to do? To be real with our heavenly Father. To be transparent with our friends and loved ones. I am most comforted by a group of friends that can truly be themselves with me. Good, bad, or ugly...they don't seem to keep many secrets.
While I'm fairly transparent about many-I'll even go so far as to say most- areas of my life, I struggle with expressing my fear and anxiety. This is probably the flaw that I am the least proud of. I haven't always struggled with fear. Don't misunderstand my statement as pride, but I have always had quite a strong faith in the One who holds my life in His hands. Until recently. I'm certainly not saying I don't trust God anymore. But in light of many major events in my life, which have seemed to cause a chain reaction in the loss of control department, it is a daily (sometimes hourly) choice for me. I have to consciously choose to trust Him. I guess what I am saying is that it is easy to stand firm and unwavering in your faith when life is easy. Even when little things arise that might seem big in the moment, overall life is good and faith comes easy. But when things like loss of a child, loss of a parent, or even loss of a spouse creep into your life...things can so easily change.
Never before have I been so conflicted. Through all of the events in roughly the past twelve years of my life, I have known God was there to catch me. And even now, I can see His fingerprints everywhere. He is more real to me than ever before. But while I can see and feel His presence, my own sense of "control" keeps wanting to creep back in. For whatever reason, I can't seem to just let it go for good. That decision doesn't come easily for me.
With all that said, I know I'm being broken, if only a piece at a time. Last week our sermon was actually on fear, worry, and anxiety. Boy, did he ever have my number! And this morning, as our new pastor shared his "confessions" before us, wham! I can totally relate to a lot of his personal fears/struggles. I feel like it's a call to open up. While I might have mentioned my anxiety several times on this blog, I refuse to face it many times in "real life". It can be such an easy shortcut to just be camouflaged and numb. Pretend it's not there. If I look like I'm okay, then maybe I can eventually convince myself, right? Wrong.
This morning it was so clear. I sobbed my way through last weeks' message on worrying. My toes were black, blue, and bloody from all the steps he took...he was talking to ME.  Today, it was even more obvious. This is more than just a message I could paint over my life and apply it to somewhat make it fit. It was personal. I feel like God has been chipping away at this shell that has formed to hold it all together. And today it cracked. And crumbled. The pastor mentioned the loss of his Dad a couple of years ago. He said he thinks about death regularly now. And fears losing someone else close to him. Hearing someone say those words really hit home. My anxiety reached a huge peak at the loss of my own Dad. It translated to fear of losing my husband. Watching my mom go through those motions, I removed myself from my pain of losing my Dad, and immediately panic set in. What if my husband isn't here? What if something happens? What will I do? I have experienced more loss (various types) in the last 3 years of my life than I have ever experienced cumulatively prior to that point. Life-changing, shake you to the core type loss. And  you know what? God's still in control. (Contrary to my seemingly popular belief that I am....)
So while I've tried so hard to "keep it together" and keep my own "best foot forward", it hasn't quite worked out for me. I'm so thankful for the brokenness. So grateful for His intervention at just the time I needed it. It is so freeing to just surrender. To cry "I'm broken, and I can't fix it on my own" tears. To open myself up completely and ask God to pick up the pieces. I'm so glad He thinks none of us are beyond repair and that he seeks out all my imperfections. Aren't you?