ON BECOMING

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“Have you heard it was good to gain the day?

I also say it is good to fall, battles are lost in the same spirit in which they are won.”

Walt Whitman

Part I.

It is difficult

becoming who I am.

Growing into

God’s original contemplation…

grabbing hold with understanding

of the maiden grains of dust

uniquely blended by Magnificence

that

are

me.

Who am I, Lord?

I have spent years surrendering all

so much effort spent in forgetting

so eager to leave behind

the tarnished life, the waning over-being,

the pain-drenched whore I knew as sin

(but mistakenly thought was me).

And in that exhilarating exodus

I forgot myself.

So eager to lose myself to Christ

I lost sight of all the iron and spark He loves,

He made, He gave, He created that is me!


Fleshy flesh

and boney bone

became a fragile precipice

where I only saw myself as good

when my reflection glistened

with the glimmer of approval

in the eyes

of

others.

Only others.

The “other-self”

became

my best self.

The hollow projection of a falsehood

the pseudo-woman

the chalky-christian

A second skin

so that they could not see

what I was terrified to see

that I was just

me.

 Part II.

It’s hard

becoming who I am.

As I, in a cage made of bones and blood,

wrought by the hands of deception,

with door swung wide open

by my God

sit still

in the darkness

of fear and anxiety

faithlessness and worldliness

victimhood and co-dependency…

doubting and dumb.


How do I take the identity of God

while retaining the self He made?

The self He adores?

Died for?

Lives for?

No answers.

No answers.

Yes…

there is enmity between

the spirit and the flesh.

But the flesh is not the person

not the heart,

not the Divine Interior Intent.

Somehow the enmity

that was an arsenal for my sin

became a lead-ladened whip

for my personhood

my holy origin

my

self.


Fine line.

Fine line.

(As fine as where bone and marrow meet)

Somehow loving You became an expression of self-hatred

As I sat at Your feet

astonished by Your holiness,

Your love for me

Your tenderness

and the sheer, raw power of Your sighs and thoughts

my glare of self-contempt grew so hot it seared my eyes shut.

I could not see the unique

woman

in which You have

(and have always had)

a consuming

unabashed

saving

delight!

(In truth, I still don’t see her!

But I sense she is near…

Close…

Strong

and

growing

stronger.)

I have been so consumed with the brokenness of the vessel

I forgot

it

was

beautiful!


No answers.

No answers.

Yet.

Only an open cage

and the freedom of the brave beyond.

The wide expanse of faith

where I no longer

hear my Jesus singing alone

but my voice is lifted with His

in a rapturous, raging, resurrecting revelry…

a raucous, chaotic, hilarious peace.

The swell of it

laboring to be heard, felt and known

pressed into, pressed upon and pressed outwards.

Do you sense the stirring?

The rumbling,

the intensity of the increasing realization

that the great I AM

thoroughly

enjoys

how

I

am?

I am becoming

free

and

powerful

God-glorifying

self-celebratory

and well-possessed of

my Jesus

and

myself.

My heart has heard Him say

“come up, into, through and for”

Become,

become,

become…

And this becoming

begets yet even more

becoming.

March 29, 2014

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7 thoughts on “ON BECOMING

  1. “so that they could not see what I was terrified to see” Strength should be defined based on what we are willing to consider about ourselves that too often is glossed over. Beautiful self reflection.

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  2. thank you for sharing this. I’m on a similar journey with the Lord and it’s beautiful and brutal. praise God the I AM for loving me how I am. such grace and mercy. xoxo

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    • Leigh, your words mean so much. The journey is gloriously, internally gory and liberating all at once. He’s a good surgeon, isn’t He? Thanks so much for taking the time to read His work in me.

      Like

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