He is the God who sees!

As the wife of a pastor, going through difficult times can get even “trickier”.
My faith walk is certainly on display for all to see. My words, actions and emotions are there for others to observe whether that results in admiration or disdain. Due to this, it is difficult to allow myself to be transparent. I seem to be concerned about who sees.

Like everyone else, I battle with my own humanness. At times, struggling to submit my will to God’s will. Recently, my struggle has been with forgiveness and the emotions that occur when you hang on to an offense too long. For me, the temptation is to push it down and hope it goes away. That temptation is ignorant. I realize I must tackle this head on. Where does a person go when their flesh and spirit battle with one another? Of course God, but also it is usually to their church and other believers. I am not always able to share. This is because I am also concerned about who doesn’t see, or who ultimately doesn’t understand.

I happened to be visiting my sister out of town on Mother’s Day and was able to visit her church. I was hurting so badly that weekend still processing things in my mind. Mother’s Day sermons are typically about mothering, but not this one. Yes, it honored mothers but mostly it spoke to the heart of women. More specifically, it spoke to my heart as if the words were coming straight from the mouth of God. Being a fairly private person, I struggled to keep my composure as the tears fell during the sermon. The speaker’s message was about holding onto unforgiveness and bitterness. The words she spoke over and over were that “He is the God that sees you”.

You see, I felt isolated and alone. I needed to know that in spite of what others believed to be true about my situation, God knew what was true. What had been done to my family was wrong. It was unjust and unfair. As a Christian, I knew better than to try to return evil for evil, to gossip or seek revenge. My only option was to forgive and I hadn’t been ready to do that.

In this church, no one knew me or my story. When it came time to pray at the altar, I was the first one out of my seat. I did not hesitate or look around to see if anyone was going. The message that day had been so clear, so specifically for me. To not go forward would have only been due to pride and ultimately disobedience. No, this moment was a gift from God to me. It was a time to cry unashamedly before Him in His house. A time to ask for forgiveness and a time to ask God for help in forgiving. It was a time to be grateful. Yes, this moment was a gift! In the midst of my hurt over who did or didn’t see my situation, God said, He sees me.

I wish I could say I let go of all that hurt that day. I didn’t. But I will. Thankfully, God also offers me grace. I have begun the process of forgiveness not for the other person’s benefit, but for my own healing. Every day I make a choice.

Freedom

Freedom. Either you have it or you don’t. The very fact that I am able to write this column is a tribute to our country’s freedoms. So many men and women died for me to have just such an opportunity. It reminds me that someone else died for my freedom.

Yes, I believe Jesus died for my sins so that I might have eternal life. But he also came so that I could have life more abundantly. The abundant part is what I struggle with sometimes. Insecurities stop me from realizing I am free to be me. They keep me from stepping out to be the one God made me to be. Perfectionism prevents me from feeling free to make mistakes. Pride robs me of the ability to be free to grow and change and learn. All of these things act as little terrorists threatening my homeland security.

Add to that the hurts and the unfairness of life. There’s always that temptation to point fingers as opposed to trusting God to handle it. Perhaps the biggest freedom robber is unforgiveness. Just as our country’s adversaries have their own weapons and forms of attack, the enemy of my soul has his own set of destructive arsenal. I believe one of his favorite tactics is lies.

Sometimes the lie I hear is “I have a right to feel this way”. Then why do I feel like a slave? Obviously, it seems that having rights is not equal to experiencing freedom. One of the beauties of freedom is the presence of choices. I have a choice to let go of my “rights” and take hold of my inheritance. Christ already bought my freedom. I just simply have to receive what he offers.

I can’t think of a better life than one that is free. Although there are days that I must declare war, it is the victories that I will celebrate. I will remember the battles fought and won. I will not forget the price for my freedom. I will honor the one that paid that price. I will live a life that is abundant and free!