True Healing

I want to make a habit of doing what does not come easily. I've started running a couple times a week and I'm struck by how much it sucks. Every time. But somehow I always feel better afterwards. Like that hell I put my body through was actually worth it. Not only was I able to release any stress through the activity, but my body is becoming stronger and healthier because of it. 

It's funny how easy it is to fall into old habits when life gets rough. When I get tired, when I feel alone, when I'm sad, I run to the things that I know will numb the pain- at least for a little while. I run to the things that satisfy that longing immediately. Because eating a doughnut is easier than going for a run. Because the 'long run' doesn't cross my mind in the moment. Because real healing takes work and it takes time. Neither of which I enjoy giving. 

But this person that I am, the one I see in the mirror, the one that falls time and again to the same old trick, the one that chooses immediate gratification over true healing every time, that's not the person I want to be. That person makes me sick to my stomach. That person is not the one I want people seeing.  It's not how I want to live. 

True healing, though, requires authenticity. It means someone else has to see that version. It means the mask has to go in the trash and the walls have to come down. And that is terrifying. So I continue. I continue to cry in agony at the brokenness inside of me. I continue to long for a better existence. I continue wishing that just once I would not fall. I continue wishing that someone would break down the walls and simultaneously pushing away anyone who would try. 

It's a vicious cycle and I think it's one many of us live. Pride keeps our masks in place, believing that we are the only ones who struggle, the only ones who fall. Admitting weakness is admitting failure. And failure we cannot accept. We cannot let them see the brokenness we see in the mirror. No one would stick around if they saw that. Right? 

Well I'm sick of it. I'm sick of pretending to have it all together when I don't. I'm sick of acting as though life is great when it's not. I fall time and again into the same old easy fix. I'm a sucker for immediate gratification. I'm the weakest person I've ever met and I need Jesus. I do. I am weak and I am broken and I build walls like its my job. But maybe this will be the start of a new era. An era of honesty. An era of authenticity. An era of community that does not condemn but comes together to support one another. I want that. I want deep intentional relationships and I want life-giving community. 

There is no healing in my mask. There is no satisfaction in my little, perfectly protected and perfectly abandoned castle. Perfect love casts out fear. So today I'm laying down my mask and I invite you to do the same. Run hard into the arms of Jesus. Let someone in on your struggles. Let them help you. Share the burden. We were not meant to do this life on our own.