Reflections

I just spent an amazing and intense weekend at a retreat with a lot of teenagers. It was a weekend filled with revelation. A weekend full of relationship and sharing of hearts. We watched girls be girls to the very core of their feminine hearts.  Nurturing and lovely, able to see themselves and each other through eyes filled with joy and wonder, to see the beauty that God created us to be. We watched boys be boys to the core of their masculine hearts. And at one point, the girls even had the opportunity to look down a stretch of beach and watch the boys (and men) exhibit behavior so incredibly male in it's exhibition of strength and dominance that it made them giggle, and shake their heads. But also made their hearts swell with love for the boys they were finally really able to see. By looking into their own hearts first, they were finally able to begin to look into the hearts of the men they love.

At one point, as a leader, I got to speak to these same young men. And while I prayed that God put the words to speak to them in my mouth--the words they needed to hear to begin to even comprehend the mystery and beauty of a woman's heart, I prayed that He gave me words to speak to them through my experience. Of being wounded by men. Men placed in my life to protect me, but who for whatever reason used their strength to hurt me. To make me feel unseen. Unloved. Not worth fighting for. Not beautiful. And I was able to tell them that I see their hearts, and while I can't even begin to understand the complexity of it, I know that they are living out a question of what it means to be a man. And the living out of anything, the actual putting into practice of what we believe and what we are called to be, is by it's very nature messy and awkward. And scary. But necessary to be in relationship the way God intended.

And having spent most of the weekend with these beautiful, strong, seeking, and brave young women, I couldn't help but look a little deeper at the female relationships in my life. And I couldn't speak truth to these girls without also speaking aloud hurts and woundedness. And seeing even more clearly that when I try to base my understanding of the nature of God on human characteristics, I am also pulling from a well of hurt for when I wasn't fought for. When my heart wasn't cherished by another woman. When I needed prayer, but I needed more than anything for that prayer to be spoken over me with the arms of a loving woman wrapped around me. When I was told I was too complicated. Too good. Or too bad. When I was made to feel like I was less than another woman because I couldn't bear another woman for the world to love...or war against. How sly is the enemy that in my loneliness and brokenness, he is the one who wraps his arms around me and whispers: That is your God?

And what does one do when she believes that is the image of God she reflects? She becomes desolate. Closed off. Distrustful. Hurtful. She strives knowing that it will never be enough. Broken becomes the name she calls herself. And no loving Father is ever going to look at the mess she has made of herself and call her Beloved. But much like a tiny seed only needs a crack in the concrete to take root and break it wide open, so is the nature of God. He will wait. Until we stop holding our breath and finally have to inhale. Until we become so parched, we have no choice but to drink. To stop running. To take rest. Then He will take root. He will boldly take up residence in the rooms of our heart we had bolted shut. He will throw open the windows and the air will be so fresh, so clean that it can hurt to breathe. But it will be so fragrant that we will desire to inhale again and again.

He comes to us this way so often. And often it is in the form of someone who for whatever reason really sees us. Who picks up our chin, looks us square in the eye, and says "You are so much more than enough" but you know that it isn't too much. And the prayer she prays over you is a song she sings with arms wrapped around you. You're beautiful, worth it all....You're beautiful. It is a song she sings to God, which He gives her to sing to you. And the well of hurt that runs so deep with the murkiness of lies, begins to be renewed. To run clear and pure. And if you just look in, you'll see an image reflected. Smiling back at you. That is your God. He calls you Beloved.