There were many years of hardened armor placed upon this soul, in a failed attempt to protect it from pain. The skin had lost it’s ability to breathe, slowly choking out life. Reality was I was physically dying and all feared there would be no recovery. I had become a dead woman walking.
Hurt and anger had caused me to recoil and withhold my heart. All the time thinking I was strong behind my glittering mask until God showed me, me. I was too proud to expose myself in weakness and just wanted to escape.
I knew if I didn’t fight against the death curses spoken over me, I would lose a battle that Christ had already won. I had to shift my focus from the darkness only allowing hope of life to be present. To get to that place I had to peel back the layers of hardness, exposing and allowing myself to be vulnerable and open to intimacy. Not with man, but with God.
I couldn’t save myself by just wishful thinking or being a good person. I was reminded that a “broken person” is the reason we need a Savior. To allow a healing we must first be broken to the point of death in order to have new life. Not necessarily in a physical way as I had to, but in a surrendering of will.
Many times the people closest to us are most resistant to reaching out or receiving. Human nature tends to fear pain from those we love the deepest.
Pain is universal, but creates a personal prison. The spirit of fear, and spirit of rejection working together as prison guards, keeping us bound in a cell with the door wide open.