Testimonials

Junk

I smile and say, “How are you?”, and I’m fine: but there are days when my smile doesn’t reach my eyes. Someone once said, “Don’t wear your emotions on your shirt sleeve but can you hear my heart yelling that I’m drowning. We all walk around with junk and check to make sure we are carrying it in the latest fashion. I compare myself to you and sometimes I feel good about me because your stuff makes you look worse than I feel. Then in my pride I feel selfish and rotten and now your faith looks simple and pure. Some how a big letter “L” grows on my heart and I feel like a loser and a failure. How do we be open enough to say to each other … “I need your help …” How do we risk looking like we don’t have it all together?

Yeah, God shows me in a million ways that he loves me, that he’ll gladly take our Gucci or Samsonite from me. Not only will he take it but he’ll open it, clean it our and help us heal. Sometimes fast with a miracle, but mostly really slowly, he gently pulls out our junk.

The shovel that is for burying my disappointment and feelings of abandonment and a big ugly club for beating myself up with when I fail and a worn out binky for when I feel insignificant with nothing to offer. Then there is the personal medical kit made for trying to fix my own bumps and bruises. He takes them all and then he peels off each Band-Aid ... the stink and pain seems bigger than I can handle. I’ve buried the sore and infection for so long that amazingly I’ve grown used to the smell and somehow forgotten that the canker was ever there. God cleans them out and I need the help of a sister or brother but that requires letting go of my bags and taking off my mask…

Thank you for being that sister that helped my open my suitcase one more time and let God dig a little deeper. Thank you for letting me take off my mask.

Hugs and Prayers,
Susan
(name changed)