Reason #286
I stood in my kitchen scrubbing dishes. The dishwasher was full and so my options were to either unload the clean dishes and put in the dirty dishes or just wash the dirty dishes by hand. For time's sake, I opted to wash them by hand. I don't really like washing dishes to be honest. I also don't like going to bed with dirty dishes in the sink. Yes, I have turned into my mother... and grandmother. Anyhow, it was quiet as I scrubbed the remains of tonight's dinner down the sink and I began to pray for truth. I've found it easy to just simply ask. Unsure of what to think? Unsure of how to organize your thoughts? Unsure of what to do? Well, just ask to be filled with His truth. And so I just asked what to make of it. What I needed to understand. I asked Him what He thought. What was it that He was trying to tell me?
I'm pretty transparent. I'm an open book for the most part. Some have read more pages than others, some have even learned how to read between the lines, but I've become very vulnerable over the past year. I learned early on that no good would be done if I kept quiet and stayed in the shadows. Trust me, it's what I wanted to do. Of course, this isn't news to anyone who knows me. So it has been a struggle. A struggle because my identity has changed. Lots has changed, to be honest. And so sometimes you think you're past it. Sometimes, you think you've won that battle and you can wipe the dirt from your hands and confidently move on. But here's the thing, even if you've won the battle and you've moved on, you've still got battle scars. So herein lies the struggle, the lesson I'm still learning I suppose.
As soapy, hot water ran over my hands, a song came to my mind. I began to hum the chorus and quickly dried off my dishes so I could hurry and listen to the song. As I pulled it up and read the lyrics on my computer screen, tears immediately spilled out from my eyes. And as I quietly sang along, He started telling me what He thought.
I'm pretty transparent. I'm an open book for the most part. Some have read more pages than others, some have even learned how to read between the lines, but I've become very vulnerable over the past year. I learned early on that no good would be done if I kept quiet and stayed in the shadows. Trust me, it's what I wanted to do. Of course, this isn't news to anyone who knows me. So it has been a struggle. A struggle because my identity has changed. Lots has changed, to be honest. And so sometimes you think you're past it. Sometimes, you think you've won that battle and you can wipe the dirt from your hands and confidently move on. But here's the thing, even if you've won the battle and you've moved on, you've still got battle scars. So herein lies the struggle, the lesson I'm still learning I suppose.
As soapy, hot water ran over my hands, a song came to my mind. I began to hum the chorus and quickly dried off my dishes so I could hurry and listen to the song. As I pulled it up and read the lyrics on my computer screen, tears immediately spilled out from my eyes. And as I quietly sang along, He started telling me what He thought.
You see the real me
Hiding in my skin, broken from within
Unveil me, completely
I'm loosening my grasp
There's not need to mask my frailty
'Cause you see the real me
And you love me just as I am
Wonderful, beautiful, is what you see
When you look at me
The real me. The real me complete with battle scars. Scars that have healed. Scars that no longer hurt. But sometimes I really hate them. Really, really hate them. Sometimes, I like to show them. There are times I roll my sleeves up so others can see because I want them to hear about my Healer. I want to tell them about redemption and hope and second chances. I want to share what God has done, the big, big things He has done. But there are times I just wish they'd go away. There are times I just want to be "like everybody else." Times I just want to look "normal." But that's not the real me. And so it can be a little scary to show the real you, can't it? Because what will they see? Will they like what they see? Will they see what you hope they see, what you want them to see?
But what joy there is when someone sees the real you and they love you for it. When they look at you and see your battle scars but also see past them. When they see your frailty, your brokenness, imperfection, and they don't turn away. When they see you, the real you. Not the "who you were" you, the "what you've been through" you, the "what has happened to you" you, but the "here and now" you, the "who you've become and the who you're becoming" you.
And so sometimes it's really hard for me to believe that when someone sees the real me, words like "wonderful" and "beautiful" would be on the list. Sometimes, it's really hard for me to believe that someone could love the "real me" just as I am. But He assured me of that tonight. Standing in my kitchen, scrubbing dishes, and He poured His love out on me. Why? Because He sees me. The real me. And He let me know that He loves what He sees.
#286 - Because He loves what He sees when He looks at me.
"O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me. You know when I sit down or stand up. You know my thoughts even when I’m far away. You see me when I travel and when I rest at home. You know everything I do. You know what I am going to say even before I say it, Lord. You go before me and follow me. You place your hand of blessing on my head. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,too great for me to understand!" - Psalm 139:1-6