Things have gotten pretty messed up in this world. I see the effects of what this broken place does to us as I watch the ways of the children around me. I currently have two 5 year olds in my life. One is my grand the other is a child I give MeMe care to. I am touched as I watch them. They have a firm belief in who they are. They are comfortable in their own skin which allows a life free of insecurities. They don’t question whether they are loved and accepted. They are confident they are.
It makes me stop to consider. How do things go so wrong?
I have long believed that there are two stories written on our lives. One is the story the broken world tries to tell us. The other is the story God wrote a long time ago. I started out in one and ended up in another. It all started when I was the child with the different personality. I didn’t learn the way the school system taught nor was I the typical easy going temperament.
The world around me became the supporting actors and actresses on my script. It seemed that everyone and everything pointed the way to my new beliefs. With each act, I became a bit more lost to who I had been made to be.
By the time I reached my late teens I was convinced that there was something wrong with me. I was too much and not enough all at the same time. The label found a place inside my being. REJECTED. One event after another confirmed it all. There was no real acceptance here on this earth. The child was gone, the broken adult became the voice in my head.
What happens in life that takes us from to such drastic changes?
We enter this world of sin, born into sin. We really don’t even understand what all that means. Years are added and along with them the shame and consequences of choices; ours and those around us. It doesn’t take long for the once, free caring, confident child to diminish. We become products of the world we are born into. We forget who we are.
This isn’t the world I was created for. Back in the beginning of time, before the world existed God had a plan for me. It was a life without shame where I could walk in the cool of the day with Him and others because love was whole and real. It was a world where all was right in every sense of the word. And then it all changed.
It’s not God’s perspective that gets tainted by sin. It’s mine. The thoughts God has towards me have always been the same. The problem comes when I believe a different story, a story that emanates from a world wrecked by sin.
I’ve come to realize something simple, yet so very profound. No man, woman, or child, can give me the acceptance I so desperately have longed for. No one can give me the seal of approval. Every single person on this earth will let me down. Many have. People live out of their own broken stories. How could they possibly give me truth for mine?
It makes me understand a little better what Jesus meant when He said “unless you are converted and become like a little child, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”
As I finish my last year of my 50’s these beautiful words of Jesus take on new meaning. I do not believe that God is only telling me that in order to go to heaven I have to become like a child and believe. I think He is trying to tell me that in order to live in the fullness of my life I must go back to the story I was comfortable in before the world came after me. It’s what I see in those 5 year olds in my care. They are not weighed down by the programming of this broken world. They are free to be who they simply are as ones who are loved.
In I Corinthians I learn that I am a new creation, that old things have passed away. I have a new starting point. God’s perspective of me is my new point of reference. My identity was established by God before all times. He looked at me, in those first moments on earth and said, “You are loved!” Before I could love Him, He loved me.
My grown up world has been one plagued with rejection from man. It doesn’t take much for me to feel it. When those moments come, where the actions of another speak, I make my choice. God is for me. I am accepted, therefore no man can reject me.
Children don’t question their acceptance. They just live in it. To enter into all that He is and all that He has done I must go back to the belief of a child who lives in the simplicity of who they are and where they belong.
People can never tell me the story of who or what I am. They didn’t write it. God did.
@copyrighted: Julie L. Todd 2016