Chasing After Me

On Sunday at Bloom, I put a shared a picture of a seemingly confident and happy woman 22-year-old woman on the big screen for all to see.

The young woman was just out of college and, on the surface, looked as if she was happier than happy and probably had all of her crap together.

But, in all actuality, it was a girl who had struggled for years with things that many people struggle with… starving herself and then forcing herself to puke when she did eat…racking up crazy amounts of credit card debt at a very young age with no great way to pay it off…going out every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night…drinking too much…finding guys to pay attention to her. In many moments, she was afraid the façade would crack, and that people would instantly see her thoughts of inadequacy, imperfection and brokenness. That they would instantly see that she was a sham.

You know people who feel this way. In fact the “people” are probably you.

I would know.

I had to put that picture up on Sunday as I shared with my dear friend Tamara about seeing ourselves as God sees us…I had to put that picture up because it was me…because it was a me who saw herself as broken.

A couple weeks back, when we were mapping out that message, one of my best and most trusted friends mortified me when he shared that some people think I’m always confident and strong and that I don’t make mistakes. I was mortified because didn’t want that to be the case. Ever. I wanted people to see me as transparent. Those closest to me know that a “confident, strong and perfect” Dawn is not reality. But what kept me awake all that night was a burning desire to lay some of the hard stuff out there…a desire to embrace transparency. Not because I was trying to hide anything from anyone, but because those real moments are the moments that can connect people with hope.

Those moments connect people with hope because they can see an anchor of hope at work in your own life…when they can see you smile despite what you’ve gone through or are going through…when they see you can cry, yet still cling to hope to keep breathing…when they see another imperfect soul find love and acceptance from their higher power.

We all go through crap. We all do stupid things. We all have moments of weakness. We all have moments of feeling gross and dirty. But we often carry all of those feelings behind a façade of a smile. Those moments are integral parts of our stories. And, for me, I believe that God – thanks to Jesus – sees me perfect, holy and righteous, despite those moments of inadequacy…those moments in the past, those I’m living now, and those I’ll face in the future.

Embrace your whole story…not just the highlights…the highs and lows complete the story. Even the crap…because I believe God turns crap into fertilizer…where there is crap, beautiful things can grow.

Joy unites us. Tragedy unites us.

Why? Because, as Mark Twain so simply said, “We’re all alike on the inside.”

The great unifier? Humanity.

It’s no wonder we rejoice in the happiness of others. It’s no wonder we cry with those who are hurting. Because it doesn’t matter where you live, what color your skin is, what language you speak, how you dress, who you love, how you vote or what you believe.

Tangibly, our bodies work the same.

Intangibly, our hearts work the same.

Our hearts sympathize with others. Our hearts know the feelings of joy and pain. Our hearts long for wholeness, especially when we sense brokenness. And, I believe, it’s because we’re all part of the same body.

This past week, I’ve seen proof. I’ve watched from the sidelines as humanity rallied together to share their love, concern and tears with a friend holding out hope for the safe return of her missing husband and three children. Some people knew the family well. Some didn’t know them at all. (I didn’t know Luke Bucklin well. But I’m blessed to call his lovely wife Ginger my friend.)

The beauty is, it doesn’t matter who knew them and who didn’t. Humanity has felt the hurt and pain of the family. Humanity has fed the family. Humanity sent messages to the family. Humanity prayed for the family. Humanity hoped for the family. Humanity flooded the family’s home with compassion. Humanity rejoiced with the family during the high points of the past week. Humanity cried with them during the lowest points. And, beautifully, humanity stands unified in love with heavy hearts for the entire family after hearing the news that no one wanted to hear.

You see, I believe we were created in the image of God. The same God who came to this earth as Jesus. The same God who created not just one human, but dreamed up plans for an entire human race meant to live together, rejoice together and cry together. The same God who sent His spirit to live inside of those who’ve choose to believe in Him, and work through us so others can physically feel His love for us, as if we’re His hands and feet in the world.

1 Corinthians 12:25-27:

The way God designed our bodies is a model for understanding our lives together as a church: every part dependent on every other part, the parts we mention and the parts we don’t, the parts we see and the parts we don’t. If one part hurts, every other part is involved in the hurt, and in the healing. If one part flourishes, every other part enters into the exuberance. You are Christ’s body—that’s who you are!

We’re made for each other. We’re meant to love each other. We’re meant to laugh together. We’re meant to cry together. We’re meant to encourage each other. We’re meant to function together. In our uniqueness, we’re unified…because, in Christ, we share a body.

None of us are immune to disappointment. None of us are immune to frustration. None of us are immune to sadness. And, God isn’t immune to those feelings either. And, if we are the body of Christ, then He feels our pain and we can feel His comfort.

This I know: my God is not the author of pain.

This I know: my God is love.

This I know: my God is peace.

This I know: my God hurts when I hurt.

This I know: my God uses evil for good.

This I know: my God makes his love tangible for me through other people.

None of will ever have the answers we want in the face of tragedy. But all of us can choose to let God’s love flow from us into the lives of others who need to feel Him tangibly. And, I believe, that love is most important…that love wins…that love trumps answers.

We will be disappointed. We may even be disappointed with God. And, I don’t know about you, but I’d rather be disappointed with God than disappointed without God. I know he’ll love me through the rest of this body. I know that He will love others through me. I’m watching Him love the Bucklin family through humanity right now.

He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.

-2 Corinthians 1:4

…bound together by humanity…bound together in love…bound together by God…

Embrace is a powerful word. It’s more than a hug. It’s more than a greeting.

It creates an image. It prompts action. It evokes deep emotions.

Webster’s definition confirms it:

• To clasp or hold close with the arms, usually as an expression of affection
• To surround; enclose
• To twine around

Now add the “-ed” to the word.

I don’t know about you…but the idea of me embracing someone is easier to stomach than the idea of being embraced. It’s personal.

Being embraced requires me to open up.

Being embraced makes me feel vulnerable.

Being embraced takes control away from me.

But then…after my own hesitancy subsides…I realize that…

Being embraced gives me safety.

Being embraced connects my soul to another.

Being embraced tangibly radiates another’s love for me.

An embrace speaks louder than any words…being embraced generates a comfort and peace unlike any other action.

It all sounds simple. Maybe it even sounds fluffy. But it’s one of the simplest and most profound realizations I’ve had. And that realization has turned the past 18 months of my life upside-down. Or maybe, it’s more accurate to say it’s a concept that has turned my life right-side-up.

For the first time in my life, I feel lovable…because I’ve finally allowed myself to be embraced. Embraced by myself…embraced by others…embraced by God.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t loved. I knew I was. But knowing you’re loved is nothing compared to allowing yourself to feel love.

Sometimes it’s awkward. Sometimes it’s clunky. Sometimes it’s scary.

But it will change your life.

Finding acceptance in embracing me.

Finally. I can love me. I’m not standing in front of a mirror ranking my performance. I’ve got my own voice, my own dance, my own moves. It’s interesting when I think about Jesus telling me in the New Testament to love others “as we love ourselves.” I certainly don’t believe he was telling me to hate others as much as I hate myself…yet all too often, that’s what I do. I think we all do. We are our own biggest haters. I’m too fat. I’m not smart enough. My opinion doesn’t matter. How can we possibly love others when we can’t even love ourselves and respect our uniqueness?

In Psalm 139:14 in the Voice translation, it says that we are filled with wonder and awe (other translations say we are fearfully and wonderfully made). I love what the phrase from the Voice suggests…filled with wonder and awe. According to whom? According to God! I imagine Him staring at me in wonder and awe. If God can look at me that way, then certainly I can. And once I can look at myself that way, I can see others that way, too.

Finding trust, encouragement and solace in embraces from others.

I always assumed that I loved people more than they could possibly love me. Not because I love bigger than anyone else, but because I couldn’t see the lovable stuff in myself. I needed to see the lovable in me in order to realize that I am, indeed, loved as much as (if not more than) I can possibly love. It’s logic, really…if God IS love, and His spirit dwells within those who believe in Him, then they emit love. God loves me through other people. I have no doubt. But I could never feel it until I let myself feel it…until I realized I could trust them to love me despite my flaws and quirks…until I would allow myself to actually HEAR their encouragement and direction.

After all, I Corinthians 13:1-3 makes it clear that the foundation of everything is LOVE. Those around me are merely living according the way Jesus asked us to live. How is rejecting their love for me respectful and loving to them? Allowing myself to be loved by others shows them I love them back. When I can trust that someone loves me, no matter what, I feel deep peace and comfort.

Finding meaning, purpose and hope in my embrace from God.

I really never had a problem understanding that God loves me. But I know I never let myself feel His love. When I think about it, I can’t feel love from people when I’m busy running around trying to please them. That’s how it was for God and me. I tried to create my own meaning and my own purpose…and believe me…that was hopeless. It always left me wanting more. And it allowed me to hide the places I didn’t want to go with Him.

When I finally understood the power of grace, and realized that there is NO CONDEMNATION for those who are in Christ (Romans 8:1, New Living Translation), I realized I had nothing to worry about! Was I at risk of Him not accepting me? Nope. He doesn’t care what I do or don’t do to please Him. He wants me to FEEL His love so that it overflows out of me and into the lives of others. The same way he uses the people in my life. Allowing myself to be embraced by God gives me hope that there is meaning and purpose to my unique self, who is filled with wonder and awe and loved by others.

You see, I realized that I can’t embrace others with a love that’s true without allowing myself to be embraced…without understanding what it feels like to be embraced… without understanding how being embraced changes the direction of a moment, a day, a season, a year and, yes, even a lifetime.

Open up. Be vulnerable. Lose control.

Allow yourself to be embraced.

And then watch your life transform.

(Thanks to the special people who understood the power of the word “embrace” and put it to work in the lives of others…including me. You know who you are.)

Independence.

We seek it. We’re recognized for it. We’re even rewarded for it.

But why?

It starts in school…during parent/teacher conferences we hear phrases like “she’s a independent worker, you should be proud.” And it doesn’t stop there…we even see it in performance reviews at work as a measure of success. And, even in everyday life, how often do you catch yourself thinking “I can do this myself”?

Guess what?! I can’t do this myself. And I’m done trying to pretend I can.

I’m done with independence.

It’s not for me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not knocking thinking for yourself – I’m a big fan. I’m not ripping on the taking care of yourself – that’s necessary. I’m not talking about an individual’s work-style or the need for people to simply focus and get work done – because at some point, work just needs to get done. And, I’m not even talking about the differences of being extroverted or introverted. What I’m talking about is bigger than any of those things. I’m talking about the psychology of thinking we can and should do everything on our own…and the drive to make it happen.

I’ve learned that, for me, striving for independence causes pride. It makes me think I can do things best on my own…without people who care about me…without people who are smarter than me…and even without God. Furthermore, the more I pretend to be independent, the more miserable and lonely I am. And all of that is no longer OK with me.

The hardest part of the realization? Admitting it.

It happened again the other day. Instead of telling some friends I needed them…I shrugged it off as something trite. Seriously?! I couldn’t even admit to my closest friends that I needed their guidance and encouragement. As if asking for it made me weaker. Really, God forbid, anyone know I can’t do something on my own. I was being stubborn about my independence…I was being stupid.

We were created to be relational beings. We were created to communicate with one another. Hello…Adam and Eve?! It’s been collaborative since the beginning, my friends.

Think about it…

At work…do you really think that no one could possibly have a better idea than your idea? Or even someone’s insight might make your idea stronger? Of course we know that. Most of us have seen collaboration create stronger results. It works. If that’s true, why do we worry about doing it alone just to get the credit?

What about your friends and family…do you need them to love you? Care about you? Or is it all about what you bring to them? Of course not…we need them, too…but all too often we’re afraid to admit it.

What about your relationship with God? Do you really think it’s all about what you can do for him? Think again. God doesn’t need you to do squat for him. He loves us so much that he already did EVERYTHING for us. All we need to do is let that love overflow from us.

I’m done pretending.

I can’t do it alone. I wasn’t called to be on this journey in life alone.

I need people. I need God.

And, it’s liberating to admit it.

Being dependent on others makes me smarter, stronger and more complete…not to mention, humble.

I am unashamedly and blissfully dependent. And I wouldn’t change it for anything.

Fear is a funny thing. It’s not always obvious. It’s horribly uncomfortable. And, it’s often taboo.

Relational rejection.

There. I said it. That’s my biggest fear. Now it’s out there.

It’s ironic really.

Ironic because I love being completely open. Ironic because I love the freedom to be real…raw…and human. Ironic because I love seeing those traits in other people. Ironic because I’m one of the most obnoxiously relational beings I know.

Yet, somehow, this fear has forced me to hide a piece of my soul from the world. Even from my closest friends. Not because of any lack of trust. But truly out of fear. Fear that if they knew every ounce of my maniacal thought process and pervasive insecurities, they would no longer want anything to do with me.

Frankly, it’s been so well hidden in my life, that I’ve literally forgotten those things exist. I’ve gotten so comfortable with sharing my feelings, that I’ve forgotten there are “whys” behind those feelings. And, convinced myself that no one really wants to know those things anyway.

Wrong.

Way wrong.

The friends who do care about those “whys” have somehow found me. And, their deep love cracked that hard core of fear…a place in my life where I feel most vulnerable.

I let my fear of being alone and being vulnerable limit what my friends could be to me…limit the love I’d allow myself to receive from them. But, thank God for their persistence. For their love. For letting God use them to show me another layer of his own unfailing love and grace.

In close friendships, people don’t see vulnerabilities as signs of weakness or dark corners where no one wants to go.

These deep relationships seek vulnerabilities to embrace them.

Once my friends drew the vulnerabilities out of me, I was reminded that if they desired to get that close to me, than Jesus wanted it more. He doesn’t care about dark corners, because he is light…because he embodies perfect love…because his perfect love casts out fear. Even fear of relational rejection.

In the New Testament, Jesus refers to himself as our friend. I’m convinced he does that so we can capture glimpses in our lives today as to how he wants to operate in our lives. How we talk with him. How we laugh with him. How we cry with him. How we debate with him. And, yes, even what we share with him.

Those friends know who they are. And, I’m indebted to their compassion, loyalty and deep love. And, mostly, I’m thankful that God could use them to remind me of how much I’m loved for who I am. Right now. Despite the flaws, insecurities and fears I see in myself. Because He doesn’t even see them. He only sees beauty…vulnerable beauty.

“Knowing and letting oneself be known require overcoming many ancient fears – but it’s worth every risk.” – Arianna Huffington in “On Becoming Fearless”