The Crooked Places

Returning from a weekend-long women's retreat, I am finding myself in the midst of mixed emotions.  On one hand, I am thankful to be home with my husband, baby and creature comforts, but I am almost mourning the close of such a special time.  As I parted with the group of ladies I only get a chance to see once a year, I am experiencing the same emotions I felt as a kid when we would take visiting family to the airport.  It never gets easy to drive away from these times of sweet fellowship!  But each year, I am able to glean such amazing memories and lessons from the time spent with my friends, and every time the Lord uses this retreat to help me overcome challenges within my heart.

We are all faced with challenges, but some challenges are more constant than others.  The challenge of self-image is one of the greatest stumbling blocks for women.  It can distance us from friends, family, husbands, and even strangers.  Because of the wreckless nature of insecurity mixed with guilt, the topic is always present at our weekend retreats.  As a woman, I struggle with this as much or even more than any other women.  I have scoured through self-help books trying to find the anecdote to insecurity.  Amidst moments of self-image induced anxiety, I even remind myself of a friend's definition of insecurity, who calls it "pride upside down."  Regardless of the spiritual knowledge and tools I have to fight off my self-image issues, I have found nothing strong enough to break me from it's wretched pattern ... until this weekend.

The Lord always teaches me through imagery and pictures, and He gave me such a pure image of His power over insecurity through a seemingly small moment during the retreat.  During an evening message by a sweet friend, she quoted Isaiah 45:2a, "I will go before you and make the crooked places straight."  Just moments before, I had journaled in my notebook and asked the Lord to give me power over my feelings of bitterness, resentment and pride regarding my appearance.  When she read this verse in the context of the crooked places within our hearts, I felt the humbling truth penetrate my soul.  

All the years of anxiety and hostility in my heart surfaced to the top and I found myself dealing with all of it right then and there.  As the worship team began to softly play, I cried quietly to myself.  Amidst my emotional road to truth, I felt a hand softly rub my back just like my mother would have in that very moment.  Sitting next to me was, Carlene, a woman I had just met before the message.  Judging by first impression, she looked to be in her late 50's, grandmotherly, conservative and sweet, wearing a matching knit outfit with a blue flower print.  However, the one thing that threw me off were the tattoos on her left-hand fingers.  Although I didn't judge or even give it two thoughts, I definitely didn't anticipate her to reach out to me in such a moment.

As I crumbled even more due to her kind gesture, she leaned over and whispered to me, "If there's something you're hurting about, I can pray for you."  I told her my struggle with anger and resentment, explaining how I deal with it daily as it churns and builds inside me.  As an inside note, my already existing issues with bitterness seem to be exacerbated by insecurities regarding weight gain and a destructive self-image.  However, my issues seemed small as she began explaining to me her own road out of deeply seeded bitterness and anger.  

Carlene shared with me her sweet story of overcoming a lifestyle of substance abuse, destructive relationships and a painful upbringing.  She told me that Jesus had freed her from so many things that should have killed her.  As she shared this with me, tears of joy ran down her face.  While I listened to her story, I noticed that she tended to keep her left hand hidden beneath the table, but at one point she brought it up, resting it on the table.  When she did, I noticed that whatever message had been initially inked across her fingers had been blotted out by more ink and was unreadable.  I started to think about what those blots of ink meant to her - memories of pain, guilt, resent, bitterness, or anger - and how she was faced with constantly carrying the reminder of her past upon her skin.  So moved by her burden and courage in carrying it, I reached up and placed my hand over her ink covered fingers.  When she saw what I had done, she began to weep, humbled and relieved to have someone embrace her "flaws."

We all carry reminders of painful wounds, either on our shell or in the dark, crooked places within our hearts.  What we fail to realize is that the Lord embraces, fills and covers all of these wounds!  He loves us with an unfailing love and He sees us as whiter than snow.  I keep bringing up the image of embracing Carlene's hand when I think about my own flaws and imperfections.  Then, I think of the Lord covering them as He so lovingly does with His nail pierced hands.  Thank you, Jesus, for the sacrifice you made, the unfailing love you give to me, and the way you daily draw me closer to your heart!