If you haven't seen Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, you need to go rent it. Right now. Go.
It's an incredible film. I've decided that I need to sit down with a notebook and watch it again, taking notes as I go. So many great lines filled with wisdom and thought-provoking questions. My kind of movie :)
A week ago today, I sat in little sister's room and watched this movie. and I looked at her and said something along the lines of... "Obviously this is going to make a great blog post."
I sat down several times over the past seven days and tried to write out my thoughts on it. and I couldn't. I got so frustrated.
Then today, I realized that I knew exactly what I had to write.
So often on this blog I speak of things in past tense. of how I used to be. things I am finished with. struggles I have overcome.
The truth is: I'm much more like Oskar Schell's than I care to admit.
I don't want to be one of those people.
Someone who lives in fear. Someone who can't deal with hard things. Someone who has failed to overcome.
But, as I sit here this morning, I am unable to deny that:
I am afraid.
I think I am going to fail.
I'm discouraged.
I worry that I can't find my place in this world.
... and I'm desperately afraid of people walking away.
I'm afraid you're going to turn your face away and shake your head.
I'm afraid of leaving.
These are the words I find myself acknowledging this morning.
I like to believe that I've never allowed myself to stay here for very long. My whole life, I've been driven. determined. I am a child of light. So why face the darkness? Faith was somehow relegated to creating a safe place. for me. and for those I love.
I've never fully let Jesus speak into those pieces of my heart that are hurt and broken. and maybe it wasn't time for me to fully be in that place. By the grace of God, Jesus faithfully embedded in my soul a growing dependence on Him and empowered me to have deep, great joy in doing lots of radical and beautiful things with Him - and for Him. He's given me a deep passion to serve others, to enjoy people, to extend an open heart of friendship and encouragement.
But now, I'm standing at the doorstep of confusion and fear.
Jesus knows I am strong enough to face the parts of me that He so desperately wants to love back to life. He will never, ever give me more than I can handle.
I think Jesus experienced desperation in His places of honesty.
Jesus cried out in Mark 14:36, "Abba! Father! All things are possible for You; remove this cup from Me..."
This afternoon, I'm thinking lots about Jesus as He faced this.
His cry has been my cry. God, please. Anything but this. Isn't there any other way?
Jesus knew He had to face the toughest journey: being broken, being mocked, being abused. On every level- emotional, physical, and spiritual.
Even though Jesus placed Himself willingly in God's redemptive plan before the beginning of time, Je was still fully human. Philippians 2:5-8 tells us so.
I imagine Jesus falling to the ground, struggling to breathe, choking waves of tears, his body shaking, his chest hurting from the intensity. and here I sit, asking, "How did you do it, Jesus?"
Jesus answers that question for me. I love answers. It can be found in Matthew 26:39, Mark 14:26, and Luke 22:42.
I hear His voice, thick with love and total abandonment before His Father in the garden of Gethsemane:
"... yet not my will, but Yours be done."
You can accept this, Alyssa
because I know how it feels when God's plan leads the world to see you as wounded.
I will give you courage to accept this. You don't have to be strong.
I will be strong for you.
Jesus points me to the scene of his betrayal, when Peter tried to stop Jesus from walking down the path of weakness. John 18:11
"Put the sword into the sheath; the cup which the Father has given Me, shall I not drink it?"
You can swallow this cup, Alyssa,
because I drank from it myself. You don't have to fight it.
It's time to drink it.
I will love you and hold you through it.
From sun up to sun down, Jesus walks with me. When I can't make a place for myself in this world, I hear Him gently whispering to me:
Come to Me.
Collapse here.
You are always welcome here.
I am Love.
Lean into me.
This way.
Forever.
This morning, I find myself surrendering in a new way. I'm surrendering to accept that where God is leading me- especially into the hard places- is a surrender to trusting God as Abba, by yielding to His will and goodness.
I don't have to be ashamed.
No matter what is hurt or broken- whether it's your childhood, your career, your marriage, your health, your finances, your friendships, your ministry, your dreams- the place you are in is NEVER out of His reach.
If I could look into your eyes, I would tell you that Jesus is here. He's always here. And He's not going away.
Jesus gathers us into His arms to a place where we can find true safety. Safety to experience the trauma. Safety to be genuine. Safety to be honest. Safety to be loved.
I'm smiling through my tears :) We're alike, you and me.
I'm stepping into a place of vulnerability. Exposing the hurt, so Jesus can heal.
This is where Jesus is shining through. He comes with new strength and new hope.
I am one of those people.
I am deeply, perfectly loved and safe in the arms of my Father.
And so are you.
You and I, we have a story to tell. It needs to be heard.
Sometimes, I don't know where I belong. But today, I know where I belong.
It's with Him.
He's prepared a place for us- the most beautiful place.
It's Jesus in us.
"This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast and one which enters within the veil of our hearts, where Jesus has entered as a forerunner for us." Hebrews 6:19-20
Jesus has entered my heart. This is where my faith rests. This is the hope that anchors me to God.
He is my place in this world.
... now go rent that movie. You won't regret it.
Hugs and love,
Alyssa
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