Before the thoughts that I explored here, are the voices. The voices in my head. The ones that tell me that I am rubbish, incompetent, stupid. The ones that constantly criticize.
People say that I am hard on myself. That I need to be more gentle. But I never have been gentle. I don’t remember the voices in my head ever being encouraging. They’ve always put me down. Affirmed that everyone hates me. My classmates would rather I wasn’t there. Even my parents didn’t like me, my true colours. They said so.
I was told as a small child that Jesus loved me, no matter what. I clung to that. He was the only one who did seem to want me. But sometimes it feels like God is angry, too. Like He’s losing patience.
And then someone says;
You are an interesting and delightful child. I want to get to know you, play with you, and discover who you are. I want to know all about you. With me, there need be no secrets that diminish you in shame. You are welcome here, and that includes your rage, your fear, and your desire for warmth and joy. I will hold you and guide you on this journey. I will stay with you, no matter where this journey takes us.
They suggest that as adoptive parents give this message to their children, so might we imagine that God says this to us. I desperately want to be held. I rock back and forth, and try to imagine that I am held by God. It’s a powerful message.
As the above is read to us, I glimpse God’s love for me again. Reflect that we are allowed to be emotional and rubbish, and He’s still there. I am comforted. God can hold my fury, with Him, and with others, and my sadness and hurting, and He can hold me, too. And He’ll always be there.