go ahead and jump!
One of the things I am discovering as I come out of a traumatic time in my life, is that there is some fear in returning to the life I had before all this happened. I love being an intercessor, but I have been afraid to commit myself fully to it again. And though I am not the same person and it will look different and be for different people, different places - although some loves like college students remain - there has still been some fear. What if I don't love it like I used to? And there is a fear of being too happy. (A stupid fear, unless you've been majorly depressed/traumatized, then you understand.) Fear that what goes up, will come crashing down.
I went to see the "The Vow" today with a good friend, and all though it's highly romanticized in it's view of life, the fear the woman had after her brain injury resonated with me. What if she doesn't love her life she can't remember? What if she loves it too much? I haven't had a brain injury (at least not that I'm aware of - but feel free to point it out if you think that's the case), but I have had a wiping away of an identity I carried for a long time.
I feel like I'm finding that identity again, baby steps at a time. I'm volunteering at Imagine Art and re-discovering my love for being in a studio among artists. Of figuring out what kind of medium draws me, what I'm capable of. Of being able to love on and pray for troubled artists.
And there is a fear I won't be able to draw, or to write like before. Or pray. That somehow the medication I'm on has stolen who I am. I know these are lies from the enemy, and things I've also heard from well-meaning Christians. I know that at the core of who I am, in the center of my being, is a heart for God, a heart to discover more of what He made me to be.
I've set some goals for myself over the next year, and I hope to accomplish them and not give up when the fear comes alongside. One thing God has instilled in me in these past two years is a strength I never knew I had. And I thought I was a pretty strong Jesus warrior before. If I can just jump off this ledge...if I can just not be freaked out by Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible hanging off a skyscraper...(okay that will never change, pretty sure.)
I know Jesus is beside me, I know His Spirit is inside me and I know what lays ahead for me. Now I just need to jump.
I went to see the "The Vow" today with a good friend, and all though it's highly romanticized in it's view of life, the fear the woman had after her brain injury resonated with me. What if she doesn't love her life she can't remember? What if she loves it too much? I haven't had a brain injury (at least not that I'm aware of - but feel free to point it out if you think that's the case), but I have had a wiping away of an identity I carried for a long time.
I feel like I'm finding that identity again, baby steps at a time. I'm volunteering at Imagine Art and re-discovering my love for being in a studio among artists. Of figuring out what kind of medium draws me, what I'm capable of. Of being able to love on and pray for troubled artists.
And there is a fear I won't be able to draw, or to write like before. Or pray. That somehow the medication I'm on has stolen who I am. I know these are lies from the enemy, and things I've also heard from well-meaning Christians. I know that at the core of who I am, in the center of my being, is a heart for God, a heart to discover more of what He made me to be.
I've set some goals for myself over the next year, and I hope to accomplish them and not give up when the fear comes alongside. One thing God has instilled in me in these past two years is a strength I never knew I had. And I thought I was a pretty strong Jesus warrior before. If I can just jump off this ledge...if I can just not be freaked out by Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible hanging off a skyscraper...(okay that will never change, pretty sure.)
I know Jesus is beside me, I know His Spirit is inside me and I know what lays ahead for me. Now I just need to jump.