In reading the blog of another today, I was reminded of this study, our intent to post regularly, and my lack thereof. Before I allowed guilt to infuse my day, I considered the words I was reading and determined not to stress over creating content when I could borrow someone else’s words that so adequately summed up the purpose of this group. So, I reference segments of Elisabeth Corcoran’s recent article at Crosswalk.com.
Have you ever looked in the mirror and not liked what you’ve seen? Probably a universal feeling for most women, at least occasionally, and something that happened to Elisabeth prior to writing her blog entry. Her musings brought her to this realization – “I have never truly been pursued by a man. Which means I have never truly been known by a man. Which means I have never truly been loved by a man. Dang”
Not a happy moment, to be sure. And it’s hopefully not true every day. . . but it was certainly true that day. Those thoughts can be debilitating, but they don’t have to be. And, as God‘s cherished children, we know it should never be. However, we are all subject to failing and falling . . . and so some days, it is. debilitating. crushing. overwhelming.
As Elisabeth said, “on days when I’m not a total train wreck, I take it to Jesus instead of 10 million other substitutionary devices that fill for a second and then drain me right back out again. This morning, I did take it to Jesus.
Here’s what I said to him … What a cavernous wound that I can’t seem to get over. When will I learn to come to you; I mean really come to you? I am asking you, again, Jesus Christ, to fill my emptiness, to heal me and make me whole, again and again, to teach me to fully rely on you alone. I want to know you as my husband, my best friend, my one true love. Please do this in my heart and life. Please fix me and fill me.”
I believe this is the heart of the intent of the series, Falling, Living and Forever in Love with Jesus. The idea that Jesus Christ can fulfill the above longing in our hearts as believers, but particularly as women. It’s a question of intimacy – of knowing and being known, of being desired and pursued because we are valued. And, it’s the need to have Jesus remind us of all the things He has done in us and also continues to do in us, as we walk with Him.
As Elisabeth said, “He [Jesus] already promises that he’s in me, that I have everything I need, that I am precious to him, that he pursued me before I knew him, that he’s especially close to those of us who are heart-broken, that he is my peace, my joy, that my Maker is my husband. So, he’s answered once and for all, and he does answer again and again.
And I know all of these things and I believe all of these things and I have experienced all of these things. But I’m human, I’m frail, I’m just a little girl (as a friend refers to herself during her vulnerable moments, even though she’s in her 50s). And I forget. I forget every single day what I’ve learned the day before.”
I too know and believe and have experienced all these things to be true. But, as that frail little girl sometimes looks in the mirror and, in a moment of vulnerability, is overwhelmed by the sting of being unloved, at least in a tangible way, of feeling unlovely and yes, dare I say it, unlovable – it’s on those days that I’m knocked down, dragged under the smothering wave of inadequacy.
It’s those days that I need to be reminded again, when I need to sit at the feet of the One who gave Himself for me. When I long for His healing hand and pray that His mercies are indeed new every morning and that there is room in His lap for me.
It’s these times that I remember, like Elisabeth, that this is only part of my story. And it does make me love my friends better and deeper. And it makes me pray harder for them and for me – that we might all have a better understanding of just how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ for us. That is worth being overwhelmed by.
“It’s the thing that compels me again and again back to Jesus, who knows and sees and understands and heals, and when I’m open, fills me.” Thanks Elisabeth, I couldn’t have said it better myself.