It has been both a beautiful and awful past six months.  New home, new job, new daughter-in-law.  Nana Estela moved in to warm our hearts and bellies.

Loved ones revolved in and out of hospital rooms and we whispered anxious entreaties.  And, then–the startling and tragic loss of a Curtis’ brother, Dusty.

Death should always be startling to creatures of light.  We can’t wait until the day death will be defeated.  We anticipate the glorious reunions as we mourn.

Just a bit ago, my baby daughter graduated high school.  Soon, my eldest son will come back to start a new life.

Yes, I’ve been busy.  Yes, I’m easily distracted.  Yes, I’m easily overwhelmed…but—there’s always a big but—the real reason I haven’t been writing is much wimpier:  I have let my insecurities inhibit my blessings.

In 2 Corinthians 12:7, Paul describes a ‘’thorn in his side’’ from which he cannot find relief.  I understand that Paul’s thorn was some kind of necessary hindrance along the lines of suffering with Christ, or practicing humility.  Although Paul was anointed, if I were Paul, I would have wondered how much more me-as-Paul could have accomplished for the Kingdom of God if it weren’t for that stubborn thorn.

Good thing I’m not Paul! That thorn may have effectively paralyzed me from doing what God had for me.

Was Paul too ashamed to name it?  Maybe.  But I have to wonder if the paradox of Paul’s thorn wasn’t necessarily the pain of the thorn itself, but the fact that Paul’s thorn was unidentifiable—something nagging Paul that he just couldn’t name or diagnose.  Did he need it to stay humble?  Maybe.  Did he spend his whole life focusing only on the thorn?  Apparently not, or he may have missed his calling.

I have a medical condition which causes a lot of pain and often disrupts my daily activities.  For several years, I strove so hard to cure the condition that I wore myself out looking for answers and remedies.  At some point, however, I had to allow myself to rest in the knowledge that my condition may not be curable on this side of heaven.  I’ve prayed for healing and received prayers for healing.  I’ve traveled miles and spent thousands to try to find relief and be “normal” again.  However, something unexpected happened once I stopped looking for a solution and learned to really live, despite my health condition, on a day to day basis.  Once I stopped striving so hard to find a cure, I experienced significant relief from the pain and disruption.   I realized that stressing myself out trying to regain what I had lost was aggravating the issue.  I was able to mourn the loss of my sense of normalcy and move on. Do I still pray for complete healing?  Yes.  Do I attempt to manage my condition so that the pain is bearable?  Yes.  I haven’t given up hope, just as Paul probably never gave up hope that his thorn would be removed.

But I have stopped striving to be cured so intently that I cannot focus on anything but the pain.

I write all that to demonstrate this point:  I am insecure, but I’ve been focusing so much on my insecurities lately that I’ve missed the most significant blessing possible from resting in who God made me to be, and what God made me to do:  to write to honor Him.

Writing is so hard.  It is messy, uncertain, subjective…just hard.  Writing can be raw and painful for me, and the end result is not always immediately known, if ever.

In the spiritual realm, insecurities are whispers of the enemy telling me that I’m not good enough, smart enough, strong enough, ( fill-in-the-blank ) enough to write. This thorn of insecurity most likely stems from childhood hurts and trauma, etc., etc.— I don’t want to diminish and acknowledge the role our past experiences play in forming our insecurities, but, just like the medical condition I deal with on a daily basis, I may not find relief from insecurity by obsessively re-living the point of trauma looking for answers.

Brothers and sisters:  Our past is worth acknowledging, but we are new creations in Christ.  Has he not redeemed our past, our present and our future?  Yes! I have to remind myself of this daily.  Maybe you do, too.

In order to get past my thorn of insecurity, I have to do a backwards inventory.  I have to look back on the price of insecurity and surmise that my self-doubt is not worth the time and energy spent feeling and living as though I’m not enough.  Insecurity has cost me many blessings.

• The blessing of serving God: The most important thing we can do as created beings created by an infinite and wise creator is to honor him with whom he has made us to be.  Focusing on my insecurities robs me of the blessing of honoring God with my words and deeds.  And that is my highest calling. I have to stop asking myself why I’m not good enough—I never will be—and start asking God how I can honor him despite my imperfection and insecurity.  I’m naming it, and moving on.

• The blessing of serving others: We are not created to live in isolation, simply fending for ourselves and getting through life in an egocentric fog.  We are created to be who God made us to be to serve our fellow earth-inhabitants.  Insecurity focuses us inward, making us near-sighted and unable to help each other.   Insecurity paralyzes and obliterates the love we are to demonstrate to help one another.

• The blessing of operating in our gifting: The enemy of our souls whispers into our subconscious in order to thwart the manifestation of the gifts God has given us.  When we allow our insecurity to drown out the still small voice of God, we are both surrendering our own sense of fulfillment here on and earth and bankrupting treasures in heaven.  We are blocking the blessing of continual growth and understanding God intends for us as we practice for heaven.

• The blessing of communion: When Adam and Eve first sinned and hid away from God in the garden, though whether or not he actually walked and talked them is up for debate, I believe Adam and Eve’s sin and shame inhibited their communing or communicating with God as they may have before the fall.  I believe this “hiding” from God was not His desire, but a direct result of the first couple’s sin, which lead to shame.  Shame, the most heinous form of insecurity, separates us from communion with God and with each other.  Shame causes us to hide away and miss opportunities to appreciate God’s provision; to have real conversation with God that lead to deeper relationship; and to live in community with other imperfect people like ourselves.  Individually, God seeks us out to commune with us in our thorny gardens, and together we commune to make one body of Christ.

This past week, my husband, Curtis, and I took some time to “go to the mountain and pray” at a place in Buena Vista called the Sanctuary–an amazing place with amazing servants of God.  We highly recommend it.  (For more info, go to sanctuarybv.com.)

While we were there, we sought God’s direction, provision and rest.  I received all that and more.  God used a pastor who had no idea who I was or that I’d been struggling with insecurity to speak these words into my life:  You honor God with your writing.  Your words are like a burning quill.  God is pleased when you write.

I was moved to tears, and somewhat ashamed; but I’m not hiding out any longer.   I want the blessings of serving God, serving others, operating in my gifting, and communing with God and others.  I want to encourage you to use who God has made you to be, however imperfect, to do the same.

I pray you receive those blessings, too.  I know they’re what you’ve been seeking  in your hiding places.

A little exercise for you: 

Part I:   Fill in the blanks:

I honor God with my ______________________________.

My___________________are like a powerful_______________.

God is pleased when I ________________________________.

Part II:  Have 2 or 3 other people whom know you well fill in the blanks:

You honor God with your______________________________.

Your_____________________are like a powerful______________________.

God is pleased when you ­­­­­­­­­­­_________________________________________.

“Father, I determine to honor you in my gifting and in whom you have created me to be.”