I strategically build these walls... you know... those walls of protection. I build some sides higher than others... occasionally taking a few bricks down... then often times putting them right back up... you know, for protection.
But I've worked so hard to create my bricks of put-togetherness... to laugh when I'm supposed to... to bake the perfect cake... to buy those adorable new shoes... to have the perfect comeback line... to blog about last night's dinner... to host the perfect baby shower... you know, to morph into the person you want me to be.
It's amazing how so many of us have carefully crafted these walls... we're careful not to say too much, laugh too loud, seem too interested... we're all desperately longing for genuine relationships, yet too stubborn and fearful to make the first move.
It's those carefully crafted walls of protection...
...that don't really protect at all.
They entrap me. I'm a slave to building my walls... patching the cracks... maintaining the structure... creating new bricks. It's exhausting to continuously keep up my facade. Suddenly the walls seem so high... initially built as protection... they now lean in, daring to topple in destruction.
As my facade of perfect bricks begin to crumble all around me, I watch in horror as my flaws are exposed.
...and yet, You are still here.
I realize it's not the perfect bricks You desire anyways. You love the real me... completely and fully. You are in the market of fixer-upers.
I serve a God that was absolutely perfect... so I don't have to be. He tears down those walls of entrapment so I can live in freedom. And for that, I am grateful.
"For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, 'Abba, Father.'"