Forgiveness, Vulnerability, and Demolition.

They were there. Tall enough that I was forced to stand on my tippy toes to peer over the top. Four walls, built with my own two hands. Built for safety, for protection, for hiding.

But inside the walls that were supposed to be a place of safety and comfort? Loneliness lived there. I could feel the emptiness as it continually invaded my space, just big enough for me. No one else. "It's so much better this way. Just me. No vulnerability." I whispered this to myself as I continued to create a paste to hold the walls together. "Can't make it too big... don't want people to think they can come and stay."

So I continued to build. Brick by brick, the walls were formed. With each brick came hope of safety from the hurt and the pain, wishing with all my might that it would keep out the monsters and dragons. And they did. Those four walls were good at it. They kept those creatures out. But the thing about walls? No matter who I might have intended to keep out, they kept everyone else out too. Everything that existed in the realm outside these walls, was kept out.

I would stand on my tip-toes and watch as the people I loved walked by. Most days, they'd stop. They'd stop and see my fingers tightly curled over the ledge in an effort to hang on. Sometimes, I'd get brave. We'd chat. Maybe even have a meaningful conversation now and then! But always with the walls there, looming between us. You see, it was so easy for me. I could always just crouch down if it all became too overwhelming, hide from the voices of truth that I so desperately needed to hear.

But with each passing day, the absence of visitors inside my confining space became an echoing reminder of my isolation. I started to forget who built the walls. I started to wonder why no one was visiting me. I attempted to blame the lack of community on the community itself. I started to stand and watch for someone, anyone... then slowly lower myself back down and mutter, "Whatever. I don't need any of you, anyway."

Years later, not so long ago, I found myself peering over the walls at the exact thing I had feared the most: those monsters and dragons. I saw the walls I built. Walls that I had built with incredible care, with the intention of protection. Instead, it reeked of isolation and selfishness. As I peered at the dragons and monsters that I'd been so fearful to face, so afraid of the vulnerability and exposed pain... I began to realize what I'd created: a prison. I built a house for safety, yet it had fed fear and inhibited what I really needed. Reconciliation. Redemption. Relationship. Forgiveness.

I imagined what it would be like if the walls were destroyed. To stand next to the monsters and the dragons with nothing but the wind between us. "I can't", I thought. "I can't destroy these walls, but Jesus, oh Jesus, I don't want to live like this anymore. Please take them down. I'm so scared, but I know you can heal and mend and create." The walls I had around me were walls that I had made. They were of human origin and therefore completely fallible. The only true protection comes from Christ, and the best way for Him to be my protection was for me to have nothing between us... to have the walls come down so He could be my first and my only defense.

So I stood in the center of the walls I had created, and watched as brick by brick, the walls came down. At first, it was Jesus. Jesus taking brick, reminding me with each one that my safety and security comes from a life hidden in HIM. Then, it was Jesus equipping the people I loved to come help with demolition. A humbling time.

I prayed with each brick that my amazing God would equip my heart with courage. Courage to stand tall, and not crouch down. Prayed that I would breathe deeply and savor the fresh air as it began to replace the stagnant air I had become to accustomed to within those walls. Prayed that I would choose gratitude in the air between us, rather than attempt to reconstruct the walls. Prayed that Jesus would take my fear captive and replace it with His fullness of joy.

So I inhaled deeply, eyes closed, and ask that God prepare me for what was to come. The last of the bricks came down, and the scent of clean air hit my nose.

I opened my eyes.

And began to face those monsters and dragons: insecurity, doubt, hurt, rejection.

In the most beautiful, open space I was able to face and fight, grow and heal.

Sometimes, I still feel like building again.

But then I remember what God has done in the open air.

... and I realize that I now know the freedom that comes when the Lord is my protection, my fortress, my strength.

There's no going back.

Today I'm thankful for forgiveness, vulnerability, and demolition.

Love to you, friends.

~Lyss