Why must people always play the victim?
Seriously, find anyone who's complaining about anything and they're victimizing themselves one way or another.
And why do we do it? (Yes, I can easily say I include myself in this)
Is it because we love to be "right"? Sympathized? Listened to? Vengeful with our spiteful words?
I don't know. I guess it depends on the day.
This song sort of embodied me for the past...well...while:
"Gravity"-Sara Bareilles
Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone.
You hold me without touch.
You keep me without chains.
I never wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your rain.
[CHORUS:]
Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.
You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.
When I thought that I was strong.
But you touch me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone.
[CHORUS]
I live here on my knees as I try to make you see that you're everything I think I need here on the ground.
But you're neither friend nor foe though I can't seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down
You're on to me, on to me, and all over...
Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.
But today, I decided that I'm going to stop playing the victim.
It's a tired roll.
And granted, it's served me well (ugh, who am I kidding, no it hasn't), but it's served its purpose for the time that I needed it.
People told me to take this time to sift through feelings, emotions, hurt, pains, joys, grief....but where does it end?
I want to be better. Lord knows, someday I WILL be better.
And so I realized of how sick I was down in the muck of my misery and I said, "That's enough. I don't want this anymore."
So whatever was left of me that was attached, concerned about or bothered by my life in the last year in the half was straight up told to go.
I told it all I was done with it, I lifted my hands up, held them in front of me, and dropped it. It def outstayed its "welcome" and I gave it up, seemingly for the hundreth time to the Lord.
Thankfully, my Lord is very gracious and He took it again, because He recognized that this was a whole brand new layer of grossness.
I'm not happy. Not all the way to my core.
Ha, I haven't been a very good "Christian"...not that superficiality means diddly squat to me. But my intimacy with the Lord has been lacking. And I can feel the massive void, the chasm in my centre.
And I asked Him to refill it.
I want to feel again.
Even if it's not me breathing...if it's Him living and breathing in me, at least I'll feel. Life support is better than living with out oxygen.
Forgiveness is the key to this new life. This "New Man" that's mentioned in Scripture.
I want to be excited about Him again. To seek Him again. To have Him in front of me; all I see, all I want. He's worth it.
In Him alone lies the freedom my entire being is crying out for, even if it only feels like a faint, muffled whimper, the desire to be alive, to be ME has not died...He will not allow it. It's far too beautiful.
I remember crying out "I don't want to be crushed anymore! I don't want to be crushed! To feel crushed! No more crushed! Please. It hurts too much...it hurts too much...
"Love is still equated with pain!" I realized. "I don't trust love!" I cried to my own surprise. No wonder I'd hidden myself from Him. I didn't trust Him. That breaks my heart almost as much as it must hurt His. Ouchies. Those are lies. All of it. I can't believe I believed those lies. Those are the lies I wanted to avoid.
But when this all was happening, in the midst of lying there, all my insides, pains and mishaps laid bare for the world to see in the most pain of my young life, I asked Him to do whatever took to be ok. Not that I believe that He brought this upon me. But refinement isn't always pretty. It's pretty brutal if anything. And this word just in: Humbling. Ouch. But it will be worth it. And He's already done so much. So it's the best worst pray I've ever uttered.
So, as I sat there again, bare, I prayed again, to be delivered, to walk in my purpose, to live up to my namesake: the Bringer of Joy.
I want it all to be for His glory. Nothing else matters. As long as I'm pleasing Him, I am satisfied.
Then I remembered one of my favourite hymns:
In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand
In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless Babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
Til on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live, I live
There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
SIN'S CURSE HAS LOST ITS GRIP ON ME.
For I am His and He is mine (three lines that will one day probably be found permenantly marked on my body...God is great, but I like reminders)
Bought with the precious blood of Christ
No guilt in life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From a life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
(and the other line that will probably be found on me): No power of hell, no scheme of man could ever pluck me from His hand!!!!
Til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I stand
Much love, at least, what I have left to give,
Peaches
