“Each time he said, ‘My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.’ So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. That’s why I take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

2 Corinthians 12:9-10 (NLT)

 

 

I heard a song tonight that reminded me that I am not where I need to be in Christ. It’s lyrics pierced my soul and before I knew it the tears seeped from my eyes. I wept. A sorrowful weeping which seamlessly creeped up from my soul. It was as if this sensation was longing to come out. Like an unwelcomed guest, with a suitcase, it awaited an invitation and came running when the time presented itself. I did not know where the emotion came from, but I could not deny it.

I was in a space of acknowledgement. Those tears represented every pain I knowingly and unknowingly caused, the moments when I hurt loved ones, the incidents where I have been hurt, and every time I hurt God. The water dripped down my faced and etched my heart with a meaningful feeling of relief. For the first time this month, I said aloud, “I am not ok”.

I wanted to please God, but I knew that I still had work to do. I still needed help with my language and my courage. I needed Him to help me organize my thoughts and align my actions to what He thought was pleasing. I needed Him to work with my level of faith and my extreme fear of upward mobility. Was it even possible to meet the requirements that He set before me?

As much as I wanted to believe it was not, I knew that was untrue. I was very much capable of every vision God has given me and, truth is, that’s what scared me the most. And I wept.

The washcloth I took out of the linen closet was not enough material to wash away the fears that I had of what could be. I reminisced of a time that referred to this feeling as being “shook”. Frozen by my own perception, I was unable to move. Physically unable to leave this space and spiritually unable to see how God could transition me from here, to where He showed me. I was so close; yet, I felt so far removed!

Fearful of the details that these visions would manifest, I lacked the faith required to move forward. For I was dangerously close to the definition of double-minded. A wavering soul that was a ticking time bomb. And I wept.

Would I be the one whose doubt would hinder my miracle? Or would I be the one who saw God and surrendered my whole heart? Was I able to lay my cares at the feet of Christ? This moment was critical considering that acknowledging my shortcomings could provide a sense of freedom. It could allow me to move forward without limitations and give God a signal that I am ready to handle what He has for me. I was ready to put my pride aside. I was ready to be completely vulnerable with Him. I was ready for this relationship to grow.

I heard my voice quiver as I began to admit my limitations. It sent a message into the atmosphere that I am human, imperfect in all ways, and have fallen short of being who God expects me to be. It also sent a message of salvation…A POWERFUL MESSAGE OF SALVATION! My cries meant that there was someone who had the ability to overcome every one of my flaws. Someone who was waiting for me to lift my arms and ask for help.

This song did more than make me cry, it made me gain the courage to move forward…moving forward, by taking a step back. I had to look inwardly and ask myself, “what is wrong with me?” This uneasy question came with an answer that required me to take a deep look at myself. A transparent moment where I analyzed my mentality, my childhood, my upbringing, my emotional state, my spirituality, my dedication to my relationship with Christ, and make cross-references.

What was the common denominator between my past and my present?

This difficult process was a mental journey I had to take. More than ever, I needed to put aside quotes like, “speak life” and “He’ll never put more on me than I can bear”, and replace them with “help me with my unbelief”, and “in my weakness, He is made strong”.

I needed God to know that right now I needed Him. I needed to know that God saw me in my weakness and that it was ok not to be ok.

Then it happened. As I spoke of each personal flaw and infirmity, I felt the burdens lift. I began to apologize to God for my recklessness with what He had gifted me with and asked Him for His guidance to bring restoration. I felt peace taking the focus off myself and placing it on God’s will. “Whatever You need me to do”, was the vow I made to follow His directives and I meant it!

I meant it when I said, “As this water purposely flows down my face, so shall my desire to be in alignment with You be purposeful and ever-flowing.” I wanted God to know that I desired more. He needed to know that these tears were not wasted. He needed to know that my heart was in a place of humility, transparency and vulnerability. These tears represented every moment when I felt I needed to hide; yet, symbolically shifted to a freedom in God. These tears drastically changed my life, as I heard God say, “It’s Ok for you to not be ok. That’s why I’m here.” And I wept.

When was the last time you cried?

Misha Scott

Misha Scott

“But blessed are those who trust in the Lord and have made the Lord their hope and confidence. They are like trees planted along a riverbank, with roots that reach deep into the water. Such trees are not bothered by the heat or worried by long months of drought. Their leaves stay green, and they never stop producing fruit. Jeremiah 17:7‭-‬8 NLT