from beneath the stones
i think i've discovered my biggest problem with God. if you know my history, you'll understand the following. if not, you don't know me well enough (hint, hint...lol). i'll begin by quoting from Rick McKinley (Donald Miller's pastor):
[The] soft heart you were born with, while sinful, was still tender toward life. Children hope and feel; they have joy, they play. But something about growing up and the harsh reality of life teaches us that we need to protect ourselves. When pain came calling -- the first kid who made fun of you, an alcoholic parent, a divorce -- we tried to protect ourselves. It's a natural reaction.
But after years of protecting ourselves we develop a hard shell around our heart so no one can get in, so no one can hurt us or take advantage of us again. That is a margin. When you can't reach out to be loved by God and other people because you're holding your arms up defensively like a prizefighter, you're living in a margin.
To live that way is not to really live, though. We go through the motions of life, but we don't really go through the emotions of life. The pain we've experienced is numbed by the hard shell covering our heart. Any joy that comes our way is viewed with skepticism born of a suspicion that any good thing, any relationship that invites me to love and be loved, probably has a false motive. We may even distort God's love by telling ourselves, God is only loving me because he wants something from me.
So we protect ourselves and we think this diminished life is somehow "normal."
The problem with protecting your heart from pain is that a barricaded heart won't let any good things in, either, things like love and joy. Some of us use humor as a defense mechanism: We make fun of things that are full of life, and we question people's motives and their goodness. Eventually a layer of cynicism covers our heart like a callus. It's a natural response to life gone bad in places, and it's a one-way ticket to life in the margins.
sorry. that was long. the point that i'm trying to make is that i've been living on manufactured happiness. i do things to make myself feel happy and loved because i am incapable of receiving love or joy. i can give and give and give, but i have a hard time receiving. thus, i find it doubly hard to accept the love of God. i can serve; that's no problem. i can love; no problem there, either. it's receiving that i have a hard time with.
i think this could be the turning of a page for me. i think i'm finally beginning to understand the single underlying problem with my life. pray for me as i embark on this journey of understanding...of peeling back the layers of stone and steel that surround my heart. much love.
[The] soft heart you were born with, while sinful, was still tender toward life. Children hope and feel; they have joy, they play. But something about growing up and the harsh reality of life teaches us that we need to protect ourselves. When pain came calling -- the first kid who made fun of you, an alcoholic parent, a divorce -- we tried to protect ourselves. It's a natural reaction.
But after years of protecting ourselves we develop a hard shell around our heart so no one can get in, so no one can hurt us or take advantage of us again. That is a margin. When you can't reach out to be loved by God and other people because you're holding your arms up defensively like a prizefighter, you're living in a margin.
To live that way is not to really live, though. We go through the motions of life, but we don't really go through the emotions of life. The pain we've experienced is numbed by the hard shell covering our heart. Any joy that comes our way is viewed with skepticism born of a suspicion that any good thing, any relationship that invites me to love and be loved, probably has a false motive. We may even distort God's love by telling ourselves, God is only loving me because he wants something from me.
So we protect ourselves and we think this diminished life is somehow "normal."
The problem with protecting your heart from pain is that a barricaded heart won't let any good things in, either, things like love and joy. Some of us use humor as a defense mechanism: We make fun of things that are full of life, and we question people's motives and their goodness. Eventually a layer of cynicism covers our heart like a callus. It's a natural response to life gone bad in places, and it's a one-way ticket to life in the margins.
sorry. that was long. the point that i'm trying to make is that i've been living on manufactured happiness. i do things to make myself feel happy and loved because i am incapable of receiving love or joy. i can give and give and give, but i have a hard time receiving. thus, i find it doubly hard to accept the love of God. i can serve; that's no problem. i can love; no problem there, either. it's receiving that i have a hard time with.
i think this could be the turning of a page for me. i think i'm finally beginning to understand the single underlying problem with my life. pray for me as i embark on this journey of understanding...of peeling back the layers of stone and steel that surround my heart. much love.