It’s not like I’ve tried to hide anything. I’m pretty sure you all know I’m as real as they come.
I post about the times I burn dinner, shoot ketchup into the living room, overflow the bathtub, don’t get around to sweeping my kitchen floor for two and a half weeks, and yell at my kids for not going to the van when I’ve asked them three or seven times. I’ve made it clear that I haven’t a clue how to fix my hair, how to decorate my living room walls, or how to layer shirts fashionably (unless we’re talking about putting a t-shirt under a hoodie, because I have mastered that one). My front closet smells worse than a boy’s locker room and looks like a used sporting goods store threw up inside.
But being real and being raw are two different things. Being real means that I admit that I’m not perfect and that I make mistakes. Being raw means that I get on my knees, expose my weaknesses, and recognize my absolute need for a Savior.
I didn’t know how much I needed to work on “self” until slowly (or quickly, depending on how it has felt on any given day), God began breaking down walls of pride, peeling away layers of selfish sin, and teaching me how to be more fully His.
I remember asking Him to help me understand His power at work in my life. I naively assumed that meant He would reveal a couple of scriptures to me, and give me some “wow God you’re so neat and powerful” moments. Right? Because God’s lessons do usually come to us come in fluffy, bright packages that are bursting with bubbles, confetti, and goose feathers. Right.
In many ways, the past year has been very difficult for me. While I’ve mostly been able to carry on with life as normal – caring for my family, writing and sharing with you here on this site, and participating in various ministries – I’ve also been in the midst of some hard core spiritual and emotional battles. I am weary. I am worn. But because of Jesus, I am victorious.
There is great beauty in becoming broken for Christ. His healing and fulfillment can only come when we absolutely surrender ourselves and become open to what He wants us to learn. As He prunes away at the pieces of my heart and life that are unfruitful, I find myself relearning what it is to be a godly wife, mother, friend, and servant. How to love as Christ loves. How to walk my days with the Spirit as a guide.
And through it all, I find that my areas of weakness truly are glorious, because that is where Jesus can shine through me best. That is where pride dissolves and humility reigns.
While God’s lessons aren’t without pain, He has provided me a soft place to fall. I would not trade what I am experiencing to become my old self again. He is faithful to walk this journey with me and to provide who and what I need during every painful and victorious moment.
Today, I’m thankful to be broken. To become broken is the only way to become whole.