This is the third of those truths I've had stuck in my head for a while...
God keeps me alive, not my independence.
I am learning how this phrase is actually very empowering but, the reality is that most of the time the practical day to day living it out doesn't feel very uplifting.
There are moments when I have to make such a conscious choice (am I the only one who feels like living the life of following Jesus with your whole heart means that everyday is FULL of intentional choices???) about if I'm going to do e-v-e-r-ything in my own power or if I'll let God be, oh I don't know, God....
People with physical limitations often take on identities of either incapable or super independent. not necessarily because we want only one or the other of those but, it's rare to be seen by others in a normal, medium ground kind of way. Typically, either people think they should applaud for every breath a person with a disability breathes because it's "so inspiring" or people just tell us about all the things we can accomplish that we haven't yet because they want to encourage us. It's few people, usually the ones closest to us, who can just let life be life.
I've been realizing lately that I grew up in a home where I was never treated differently because of my lack of sight, I was always expected to do all the things my peers were doing even if the way I did those things looked different (um, for example, I rode a skateboard on my stomach pushing myself along with my hands. Yep, I was a pretty rough 7 year old) I was still expected to participate. Most of the time, I'm really grateful for this. I know that it has helped me accomplish things in my life that would not have been possible if I thought for a second that I couldn't.
Aaaannnndd, well, I'm also learning that this way of doing things has also caused me to build some walls I mean like really high and really thick walls.
I was never given boundaries. I was never told it was okay if I didn't want to do something. I was never told that if I got hurt doing something I didn't have to keep doing it. In many ways even though I felt very capable I wasn't protected.
That's kind of a big deal when Jesus comes and says, "Let's talk about the fact that it is Me who chose you and it is Me who kept you alive..."
Because what I want to reply is something like this, "Uh-uh, it wasn't! I learned how to keep myself alive, thank You very much."
Here's the thing though, I lived through some pretty insane things as a kid.... things that involved drug deals in our house, guns pointed at people, grown ups hitting, punching, kicking each other, thieves climbing in windows in the middle of the night.... and all the normal stuff of going to school as a kid with a disability which meant dealing with other kids whose parents never taught them how to treat people who are different than you.
And, so I have felt a very strong sense of independence
Don't misunderstand, I do believe there is a healthy amount of knowing you are capable and being confident. What I'm learning to let go of right now though is the sense of "I can take care of me all by myself".
And THAT is what feels vulnerable.
it means choosing to trust that God will put people in my path who want to help.
it means choosing to trust that God sees all of my needs.
it means learning to communicate my needs with Him and with His people in new ways.
it means admitting my own needs to myself.
it means slowing down enough to see that sometimes boundaries are for my protection.
it means believing that God wants to protect me not because He doesn't believe in my abilities but because He doesn't want to see me have to go through pain....
So, I'm saying it over and over and over again... "God keeps me alive, not my independence. God keeps me alive, not my independence. God keeps me alive, not my independence...."
In the few moments when I really let myself fall back into that statement, be carried by it, it feels really nice to be seen and known and protected by Him... I want more of that. I want more of recognizing how valuable I am to Him, how much He longs to protect me because He doesn't like to see me hurt.... As a believer who has a noticeable disability (let's face it, everyone has areas of life where they don't quite measure up to the standard, everyone has abilities that they are not so good at...it's just not as noticeable as some others are) it is a relief to be able to know that God wants me alive, keeps me protected, knows my needs, sends His people (angels?) at the right times AND also loves it when I accomplish things that are hard or scary. It's for His glory. And, my friends, that makes it worth it for me. If He is glorified through protecting me, through keeping me alive, through allowing His body to rise up and siep into their fullness...then, okay, I'll be vulnerable and I'll recognize some of those new looking boundaries.
God keeps me alive, not my independence.
I am learning how this phrase is actually very empowering but, the reality is that most of the time the practical day to day living it out doesn't feel very uplifting.
There are moments when I have to make such a conscious choice (am I the only one who feels like living the life of following Jesus with your whole heart means that everyday is FULL of intentional choices???) about if I'm going to do e-v-e-r-ything in my own power or if I'll let God be, oh I don't know, God....
People with physical limitations often take on identities of either incapable or super independent. not necessarily because we want only one or the other of those but, it's rare to be seen by others in a normal, medium ground kind of way. Typically, either people think they should applaud for every breath a person with a disability breathes because it's "so inspiring" or people just tell us about all the things we can accomplish that we haven't yet because they want to encourage us. It's few people, usually the ones closest to us, who can just let life be life.
I've been realizing lately that I grew up in a home where I was never treated differently because of my lack of sight, I was always expected to do all the things my peers were doing even if the way I did those things looked different (um, for example, I rode a skateboard on my stomach pushing myself along with my hands. Yep, I was a pretty rough 7 year old) I was still expected to participate. Most of the time, I'm really grateful for this. I know that it has helped me accomplish things in my life that would not have been possible if I thought for a second that I couldn't.
Aaaannnndd, well, I'm also learning that this way of doing things has also caused me to build some walls I mean like really high and really thick walls.
I was never given boundaries. I was never told it was okay if I didn't want to do something. I was never told that if I got hurt doing something I didn't have to keep doing it. In many ways even though I felt very capable I wasn't protected.
That's kind of a big deal when Jesus comes and says, "Let's talk about the fact that it is Me who chose you and it is Me who kept you alive..."
Because what I want to reply is something like this, "Uh-uh, it wasn't! I learned how to keep myself alive, thank You very much."
Here's the thing though, I lived through some pretty insane things as a kid.... things that involved drug deals in our house, guns pointed at people, grown ups hitting, punching, kicking each other, thieves climbing in windows in the middle of the night.... and all the normal stuff of going to school as a kid with a disability which meant dealing with other kids whose parents never taught them how to treat people who are different than you.
And, so I have felt a very strong sense of independence
Don't misunderstand, I do believe there is a healthy amount of knowing you are capable and being confident. What I'm learning to let go of right now though is the sense of "I can take care of me all by myself".
And THAT is what feels vulnerable.
it means choosing to trust that God will put people in my path who want to help.
it means choosing to trust that God sees all of my needs.
it means learning to communicate my needs with Him and with His people in new ways.
it means admitting my own needs to myself.
it means slowing down enough to see that sometimes boundaries are for my protection.
it means believing that God wants to protect me not because He doesn't believe in my abilities but because He doesn't want to see me have to go through pain....
So, I'm saying it over and over and over again... "God keeps me alive, not my independence. God keeps me alive, not my independence. God keeps me alive, not my independence...."
In the few moments when I really let myself fall back into that statement, be carried by it, it feels really nice to be seen and known and protected by Him... I want more of that. I want more of recognizing how valuable I am to Him, how much He longs to protect me because He doesn't like to see me hurt.... As a believer who has a noticeable disability (let's face it, everyone has areas of life where they don't quite measure up to the standard, everyone has abilities that they are not so good at...it's just not as noticeable as some others are) it is a relief to be able to know that God wants me alive, keeps me protected, knows my needs, sends His people (angels?) at the right times AND also loves it when I accomplish things that are hard or scary. It's for His glory. And, my friends, that makes it worth it for me. If He is glorified through protecting me, through keeping me alive, through allowing His body to rise up and siep into their fullness...then, okay, I'll be vulnerable and I'll recognize some of those new looking boundaries.
