sinners like you and me while he was sinless, and to die a most hideous death just for you and for me — just as we are. And he would do it all over again, even if we were the only two people on earth to die for. Do we really need more proof of how precious we are, how beautiful we are, how worth it we are, than that?
We were worth dying for. And we still are.
It is when I do this, when I take my self-doubt, my self-hatred, my hideous lack of self-worth, and the false idea that I can find my identity in anything other than Christ, to the foot of the cross, then I can see our Father reaching out to all of us, as a loving father does. And I can hear his voice saying,
“Oh, sweet daughter, just stop. Please stop and listen. I made you. Do you hear me? You are my beautiful creation. And you have been made perfect in my image. Not the images you see on Instagram. MY image. There is no bit of you that is unwanted. I knit you myself, and I do not make mistakes. Stop undoing the threads. It is killing you. You are exhausted. I did not make you to feel this way. Stop the striving, take off the filter, and just be you. Only I can purify you, only I can refine you. Let me. Let my light pass through you. Quit shutting me out. Put down the filter of this world and take up MY filter. Look at yourself through my eyes, and through my heart. See yourself the way I see you. See how I love you, how very much I want you. Just as you are. Every piece of you. Wanted.”
And then I hear him say, “By the way, she bought that pie from the store and the rest of her house was a mess, and you don’t need a farm table, and you want to see homeless? Because I can show you homeless … so please … just shut up.” Only God probably doesn’t say shut up. I do. I should probably filter that.
I don’t know. I just think we live a half-filled life when we spend it trying to make it look like something it isn’t; when we spend it trying to fill it with things that do not come from God. Because honestly? Who are we fooling? God sees you, and he wants you. Every bit of the you he created. He doesn’t want you looking like a deer and he doesn’t care how perfect your life looks on your Instagram feed. Only he holds your purpose, and only he knows your plan. And the sooner we get to know him, who knew us before we were born, the sooner those plans will be revealed. God sees so much more than you are willing to show, and he knows the amazing things about you that he has given to only you. And he wants it all.
You are wanted as is. Made in his image. Unfiltered. Unstaged. Totally and 100 percent wanted. Look at that image. Post that. And believe it.
Battle Plan
Let’s check our “feed”: those things we look at, allowing them to influence us and shape our hearts. Maybe it’s social media, gossip magazines, or a favorite Netflix binge. Do a heart check and ask yourself, “Am I encouraged by what I see? Or do I want to throw myself off a cliff when I’m done?” So many of us are choosing to look at things that chip away at our self-image, dragging us down into the pit of comparison. Pay attention to how you feel after you spend time looking at these images. Maybe it is time to clean up your feed not only by eliminating the junk, but by adding more truth and beauty.
Weapon of Choice
The Belt of Truth is the first piece of armor we need to put on. This is no ordinary leather belt. You won’t find it at TJ Maxx. From it will hang our Sword of the Spirit, so it is a most important piece of defense, not only protecting us against the lies that bombard us, but also preparing us for victory in the battle. I have always wanted to say this: “Gird your loins!” And while girding, go ahead and repeat often, “You are all fair, my love; there is no flaw in you” (Song 4:7), believing that these are God’s words spoken to you, just as you are.
Chapter 3
The “What’s in It for Me?” Battle
“Give, and it will be given to you; good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”
— Luke 6:38
My favorite Gospel story is the one where the angel Gabriel comes down to the young, sweet Virgin Mary and announces God’s plan for her, the “news of great joy”: that she will be overshadowed by the Holy Spirit, become pregnant and give birth to the Son of God, and she will call him Jesus, meaning, “God saves.” And without hesitation, Mary looks up to the angel, eyes wide, leans in close, and quietly asks, “What’s in it for me?”
Oh, wait.
That’s not how it goes.
Actually, she said yes.
Now, if I were Mary? Well, we’d most likely have a different story. That, I realize, would change quite a bit when it comes to the small things, like our salvation. So, ya know, good for you, God, for being wise enough not to send your messenger to me. Plus, if an actual angel ever did appear to me, I would be so terrified that I would, without question, die of a heart attack before the angel ever had a chance to share God’s plan. I don’t even answer the door when it is the UPS guy knocking. Unexpected visitors horrify me.
But let’s say I didn’t die on the spot. Then, yes. Before agreeing to anything, and before making some sort of sarcastic remark of this being “news of great joy,” I would totally ask, “What’s in it for me?” Because I would want to know. I mean, wouldn’t you? If you were asked to give up your plans, your marriage as you had dreamed it to be, your very body, your hopes, your will, your control, and every single bit of life as you know it and desired it to be, wouldn’t you sort of be curious about the payoff? Wouldn’t you want to be sure that this incredible inconvenience, this unusual sacrifice, this unheard-of teen pregnancy bound to be the hot topic at the well, was going to be worth it?
Because, let’s be honest here. We demand to know what the payoff is with lesser things than being asked to be the Mother of God. We don’t usually like to put ourselves out there, or change our plans, or make ourselves vulnerable, or go the extra mile, or simply do something we don’t want to do, or fully understand, unless we get some sort of reward in return. Some kind of consolation prize. I mean, our children can’t poop in the potty without getting a sticker on a chart, and are we really any different? How often do we do what we do, not because we were asked, not because it is the right thing to do, not because we love the person asking, not out of obedience, not because pooping anywhere but the potty is actually kind of gross, but because of the hope that there is something in it for us, personally? Being told, “Well done, faithful servant” just isn’t enough for us, is it? We want a sticker on our chart.
And we don’t just do this with the lesser things. We do this with the big things, too. We do this with our relationships. With our spouses. Our children. Our friends. Our church. Our places of work. With our God. We haggle and we gamble and we place our bids. We try to negotiate the price down, we scheme and we finagle. We cut corners and we go down roads we were certain we would never go down, just to be sure we don’t get the short end of the stick. We do everything we possibly can to get the best deal for ourselves, sometimes regardless of who gets hurt or overlooked or slighted in the process. Because unlike Mary, whose one motive was her love for God, our motive is mostly love for ourselves. And “thy will” becomes my will. And this is a dangerous place to be.
My husband and I went through a difficult season years ago (not to be confused with the difficult season we are in now, or were in many, many years ago, or will most likely be in, in another few years. If you are not yet married, my apologies for breaking the news to you, that you might not hear while testing wedding cake flavors or planning your exotic honeymoon, that marriage is one beautiful trial after beautiful trial. But please, do not be afraid. Cake and vacation do not strengthen a marriage. Trials do.).
I remember,