Heart Flow: The Real Me.

Folks. Blog readers. Friends. This is going to be a tough post, I’m telling you up front. But, I’ve been mulling over this post for…oh, I’d say, less than a week. And I really want to share it. But it's hard, because I'm going to let myself be vulnerable. So, I’m taking a cue from one of my favorite Bloggists (that’s not a real word, awesome as it may be) Summer. She is so honest and open. She seriously inspires me to share my thoughts, my heart, in a more honest, and real way.

Allow me to begin...

Last Sunday, I had the opportunity to go to an amazing church (The Rock), and hear an amazing word.

And, can I just tell you? God was there. You could just feel an energy, a vibrancy, a presence.

The sermon was about worship, and how we can worship God wholly...uninhibited.

Pastor Miles M. eloquently stated that worship is akin to your heart flowing directly to God. Every.bit.of.it.

All emotion, fear, joy, love, worry, thoughts. We need to break free from the things that hinder us from worshipping our God, and have an open heart flow. Like a river of water, from us, to Him.

Personally, I take worship to mean more than singing praise to Him. It is prayer, attitude, thoughts, words. It is every part of every day. It's our relationship to God. This is what this post is about. Not just the act of worship in church, with music, and song, as important as those things are. It's about me, and my daily worship, and my heart.

Here’s where it gets real.

For well over a year, I’ve struggled immensely with my relationship with God. I mean, I have NO words to describe how deep the struggle and the pain has been. Anger, bitterness, frustration. It was Bad, with a fat capital B. I kid you not. As in, church was something I went to, to avoid feeling quilty, my Bible was MIA, I had no motivation for any spiritual growth. I could care less. Period.

And, as I listened to this sermon, and pondered his words, I felt my heart start to beat faster. I felt uncomfortable. We were led into closing worship. I stood. I raised my hands. I sang.

And suddenly, my heart began to break.

It broke for all that I’d missed. For all of my sin. For all of my anger that I refused to give to Him.

I closed my eyes. I imagined a brick wall. The bricks were made, one by one, from my own hand:

Anger, fear of being alone, resentment, jealousy, sorrow, disappointment, and on, and on, and on. Neverending. Disgusting. And as the music carried on, I kept imaging this wall.

Until, a beam of light shot through.

I opened my eyes, singing, amazed. I knew.

He was tearing down my wall.

Friends, I have to admit something. I am terrified of people seeing the real me. The me that I sometimes wish I wouldn’t be. The me that is vulnerable, raw, and broken. The me that I tell to ‘go away, you are worthless.’ The me that is frightened of being abandoned by those I love. The me that feels too deeply, fights anxiety, gets depressed, gets hurt too easily.

Oh, dear friends, I know I must not be the only one. The only one who hides behind humor. Who tries to be the best at everything (because God forbid anyone sees me fail). Who smiles when I want to cry. Who wants to make others happy, even when I can’t seem to be. Who gets tired of the great pretend.

I want to tell you, I have a blessed, wonderful life. I need to make that perfectly clear. A huge percentage of my days are filled with joy and happiness. But these feelings and thoughts sometimes linger under the surface. And when I peel back the layers and find them, I, myself, am often shocked to discover them.

However, I had convinced myself, somehow, that this wall I built around my heart, was my ultimate protection. That, if God were Superman, my heart could be his Kryptonite. He could never reach me. I could love Him on my own terms.

And now I see. I’ve been so lost, because I wandered away. I’ve been in the dark, because I turned off the light. I’ve been afraid, because I refused to be comforted. I’ve been walking through the motions, because I didn’t want to feel. I’ve been so weary, because I didn’t want to seek rest. I hid behind this wall, only to find myself in a war zone.

Yet...slowly, over this week, I’ve been allowing Him to tear down the wall, brick by brick. To change my heart. To romance me. To bring me back to Him.

The remnants are still there. There is loads of work to be done. Yet, I am so encouraged. I’ve thought all week about my heart flow, and how I can be right with my Savior again.

He wants the real me. That me that I sometimes hate. He doesn’t want the fake smile, or the flippant prayers and attitudes. He wants the raw, bruised, honest me.

"I've been wicked and wild and wrong, and I've wondered the price of my shame

I've been hiding my face for so long, it's a wonder that You know my name." {Saving Jane}

He knows my name. He knows the real me. And loves me the same.

My heart is beginning to flow again. To Him. To my faithful, loving, forgiving God.

I want to leave you with this, the greatest revelation, and sweetest encouragement I can offer:

After imagining that brick wall, and the realization that He was trying to reach my heart, I fought it. I opened my eyes, got distracted, and refused to focus on the worship. But, as hard as I resisted, I was pulled back.

I closed my eyes again. I felt the tears stinging, and the lump in my throat.

And instead of that wall, I saw Jesus.

Clearly, beautifully. Smiling.

You know what else?

He was dancing with me.

And my heart was happy.