I am in the midst of a process of healing and vulnerability with Jesus. I will always be. There is no finish line, only checkpoints. In fact, it is not a race, it is a journey deeper and deeper into His heart for me, into His will. A journey that I am assured will bring peace, clarity, and complete healing. In today’s culture of instant gratification and measurable success it has become difficult to keep my eyes trained and my heart focused. I feel the pressure to always present my ideal self. I see my peers on Instagram sharing beautiful snapshots of their lives, perfectly edited and polished, accompanied by wistful and inspiring captions. Too often, I accept the lie that they are worth more, that their life is bringing more glory than my own, that their process is more pleasing to You, that You are more pleased to claim them as your child. This belief that Jesus values what the world values, unfounded as it is, has led me to hide my process, to only present what I think He wants to see. It is clear to me now that I have been trying to perfectly edit my life before I present it to Jesus; as if His knowledge of me is limited by what I choose to offer.
In reality, his knowledge of me is raw and pure, complete. There is no cover to be found in His presence, and that terrifies me. The memory of being rejected in my vulnerability is at war with my deep desire to be embraced in my brokenness. Instinctively, I turn my back on Jesus in my darkest moments, because I know that to be fully embraced I must be fully exposed. All of my shortcomings, my doubt, my shame, on display for Him to see, yet He moves in to hold me regardless. I savor this moment with my lover, fully exposed and fully embraced. He calms and assures me, speaking into my heart that my sin does not scare Him. He promises firmly to never betray my vulnerability.
When His process leads me to difficult and defining moments I begin to question the process, as if I was promised that sanctified life would be comfortable. For too long I confused comfort with safety. I know full well that this process will bring wave after wave of discomfort, but my heart has tasted the safety of His presence. So when He beckons me to come naked before Him, and my flesh insists that I cover myself, my heart will not cease in recalling His embrace. I will approach Him with my eyes raised. I will see that He does not look on in disgust. I will see that He is elated to welcome me home. I will see that He is the lover and worker of my process. A master craftsman at work.