Achievement doesn't hug you back.
It is easier to give than to receive, It is easier to shout praises up, to be in the doing seat, than to let Jesus shower down.
Love.
Uncomfortable love.
We cannot earn love. And yet I try and try.
Talk, talk, talk, afraid to sit and receive.
An achiever earning.
We cannot ever make enough "do" deposits into the account to make it feel quite full.. we cannot meet the standard if the standard is someone else's legacy, or certificate, or Masters, or Doctorate, or published work of masterpiece, or anything else that causes a dinner guest, or family member to lift their brow at a 10 second speech of self defining. Hi, I'm Larry, I am an analyst for so and so. Hi, I'm Jane, I manage the pediatric blah blah blah. Hi, I'm Carol, a publicist for doody doo. NO! You are Larry, a complex web of beautiful things not profitable in a paycheck, a dad, a friend, a great maker of brownies and welcome environments, you are a called out redeemed one! You are Jane, an avid worshipper, deeply curious about things not very interesting to most, and yet a joyous image bearer of your accident free maker. You are Carol, a little girl needing to be loved on in a big persons body with an uncomfortably tailored and pressed suit on, and when you take it off, you are no less valid or worthwhile, you are adopted into an eternal family with unbreakable ties and immeasurable love and your dad will never reject your attempts for intimacy because He always makes you a priority. Even if you handed Him a resume of blank white paper, you get the job. You are a beloved one. Nothing but Jesus remains and nothing but Jesus and Him in us should define us. Achievement doesn't hug you back and using it to earn love and approval will only leave little girls everywhere disheartened, overworked, and under-touched. You see so many of us are guilty of this and the strangest part is that we are uncomfortable with touch not earned, hugs not warranted, praise not labored for, as long as we have it in our mind that there is a need for such. But oh we hunger for it, but we won't let ourselves partake and relax inside it until we have eaaarned it. One small gesture repeated in our lives that sends the same message.. you have to earn my love because I give it when you do this... grades, degrees, income, and any other pleasantly received hoop jumping that tends to make small talk go smoother with those you ache for nuggets of love from the most. Achievement will never hug you back, and the small but powerful, even unintentional punches that led you down the road to work for it, to bathe for a brief moment in an "I'm proud of you," will always leave you disatisfied and hungry, hungry hungry hippo I'm telling you. The sad part... the one sending the message is probably a wounded one as well, completely unaware and deeply hurt by their own struggle for earned love and misintended messages on their own heart's corkboard. They just want to feel from you what you feel you can't receive from them... love. Brokenness may muffle it, but grace covers that too, and the need still remains. Loving.. giving it and receiving it...is a choice. Earning it is too... but a poor one for painfully ticket to the dryland of famine certain.
Love beyond the barriers of brokenness. Embrace in times not warranted.
He gave, that we might live, and live to the full.
He loved and paid that we could never earn it.
His arms are very different now, but there is a promise, one good for eternity, that puts us on our father's lap, captive in His presence and nothing will again separate us from His love.
And it's days like these that I just want to be there. Sure of who I am. Hair messy and clung to his chest with static.
It is easier to give than to receive, It is easier to shout praises up, to be in the doing seat, than to let Jesus shower down.
Love.
Uncomfortable love.
We cannot earn love. And yet I try and try.
Talk, talk, talk, afraid to sit and receive.
An achiever earning.
We cannot ever make enough "do" deposits into the account to make it feel quite full.. we cannot meet the standard if the standard is someone else's legacy, or certificate, or Masters, or Doctorate, or published work of masterpiece, or anything else that causes a dinner guest, or family member to lift their brow at a 10 second speech of self defining. Hi, I'm Larry, I am an analyst for so and so. Hi, I'm Jane, I manage the pediatric blah blah blah. Hi, I'm Carol, a publicist for doody doo. NO! You are Larry, a complex web of beautiful things not profitable in a paycheck, a dad, a friend, a great maker of brownies and welcome environments, you are a called out redeemed one! You are Jane, an avid worshipper, deeply curious about things not very interesting to most, and yet a joyous image bearer of your accident free maker. You are Carol, a little girl needing to be loved on in a big persons body with an uncomfortably tailored and pressed suit on, and when you take it off, you are no less valid or worthwhile, you are adopted into an eternal family with unbreakable ties and immeasurable love and your dad will never reject your attempts for intimacy because He always makes you a priority. Even if you handed Him a resume of blank white paper, you get the job. You are a beloved one. Nothing but Jesus remains and nothing but Jesus and Him in us should define us. Achievement doesn't hug you back and using it to earn love and approval will only leave little girls everywhere disheartened, overworked, and under-touched. You see so many of us are guilty of this and the strangest part is that we are uncomfortable with touch not earned, hugs not warranted, praise not labored for, as long as we have it in our mind that there is a need for such. But oh we hunger for it, but we won't let ourselves partake and relax inside it until we have eaaarned it. One small gesture repeated in our lives that sends the same message.. you have to earn my love because I give it when you do this... grades, degrees, income, and any other pleasantly received hoop jumping that tends to make small talk go smoother with those you ache for nuggets of love from the most. Achievement will never hug you back, and the small but powerful, even unintentional punches that led you down the road to work for it, to bathe for a brief moment in an "I'm proud of you," will always leave you disatisfied and hungry, hungry hungry hippo I'm telling you. The sad part... the one sending the message is probably a wounded one as well, completely unaware and deeply hurt by their own struggle for earned love and misintended messages on their own heart's corkboard. They just want to feel from you what you feel you can't receive from them... love. Brokenness may muffle it, but grace covers that too, and the need still remains. Loving.. giving it and receiving it...is a choice. Earning it is too... but a poor one for painfully ticket to the dryland of famine certain.
Love beyond the barriers of brokenness. Embrace in times not warranted.
He gave, that we might live, and live to the full.
He loved and paid that we could never earn it.
His arms are very different now, but there is a promise, one good for eternity, that puts us on our father's lap, captive in His presence and nothing will again separate us from His love.
And it's days like these that I just want to be there. Sure of who I am. Hair messy and clung to his chest with static.
truth telling at it finest.
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