The Simplicity of My Testimony: A Memoir
Expected release, June 2022:
Looking
back at my past relationships, the twists and turns that my life has taken for
the good and the not-so-good, I understand that every single incident, every
mountaintop experience and every valley experience is and has all been for
purpose. There is no way that I could truly value the blessings without having
endured through the trials, and by getting through each trial, God has added a
brick of character to my foundation.
Perhaps the most valuable lesson I’ve learned is that living for Jesus is like riding in the passenger’s seat of a car with a stick shift. I vividly recall when, as a teenager, I would ride with my sister in her Toyota Celica. The car had a manual transmission, and I often found myself in awe watching her drive, clutching, shifting, accelerating, and braking so effortlessly.
Once while stopped, and almost as though reading my mind, she looked over at me and told me to put my hand on the stick shift. She put her hand on mine, and as she pressed down on the clutch, she used her hand on mine to maneuver the stick through each gear, calling out which gear we were in each time, until I had memorized the placement of each. Finally, we were back in motion on the road, and this time, she had removed her hand from mine. Each time she would tell me when and what gear to shift to, I would. She would clutch, and I would shift. Teamwork. Relating this teamwork to living for Jesus, I am constantly reminded that I am not in control. I have to allow Jesus to take the wheel and tell me when to shift, up or down. He is in the driver’s seat, in control of the speed and the destination. Only He knows my worth, and the only place true value and worth could and can be found is in the arms of Jesus.
Knowing
and understanding my worth has been an issue for me all my life. Because of
past hurts, losses, and traumas, I have been a people pleaser, afraid to
disappoint others out of fear that they will abandon, criticize, or reject me.
I have found myself repeatedly trying to please others, often at my own
expense. I have for the most part taken on a detrimental habit of feeling as
though I always have to explain myself, my actions, and my shortcomings, even
when an explanation is neither warranted nor asked for. Knowing what I know now
about value and worth, I realize that my actions and feelings about myself
start with an understanding of who I am, and more importantly, of Whose I am.
I
recently had an enlightening conversation with someone, and in that
conversation, we found ourselves talking about the transformative power of
water. My friend explained how water has the ability to conform to whatever
container it’s placed in. Moreover, water also has the ability to go around
whatever obstacles are placed in its way. Envisioning these two bits of wisdom,
I added a third point: Water also has the power to erode even the hardest
surface, such as rocks. Given time, a single drop of water repeatedly dropped
in the same place on a rock will create a hole in that rock. The only force
greater than water is love.
As
we progressed in this conversation, we ended up on the topic of the butterfly,
and how a butterfly is first a caterpillar. My friend asked a rhetorical
question: “What would happen if that caterpillar said, ‘Nope. I give up. I
can’t do it. I don’t want this pain.’” I immediately responded, “No one would
ever see the beauty that that caterpillar would or could become.” Reflecting on
that conversation and the topic of the butterfly, I believe that God gave me a
revelation about the process of becoming a butterfly, and He did so in a way
that I found relatable.
A
caterpillar spends most of its life eating, devouring as much as it can, and
growing as large and strong as possible. It does so because it knows that the
next phase of its life will be wrought with struggle and pain. After it reaches
maturity, the caterpillar sequesters itself, usually on a plant, then instinctively
spins a silk cocoon around itself. Once this process is complete, the painful
part begins. The cocoon, or chrysalis, hardens to protect what is inside, as
nearly every cell in the caterpillar’s body begins to break down in a rapid
degeneration. Only certain cells remain intact, those that will ultimately form
the wings, legs, and other parts of the butterfly. As the transformation ends,
the butterfly still must break free from the cocoon in order to survive. From
studies that I’ve read, I haven’t seen scientific evidence that butterflies
feel pain in their wings, as some would argue that these creatures lack pain
receptors in their wings. However, while in the cocoon, the butterfly’s wings
are thin and delicate, not strong at all. And yet, somehow, it has enough faith
and determination that it will escape its hardened silk case. The butterfly has
a purpose and within that purpose is an internal roadmap that guides it through
perhaps the most difficult struggle it will ever face. The reward for us as human
beings is that we get to behold the beauty of the wings that God has painted on
an insect that started out as something that looked intimidating, unattractive,
and to some, downright ugly. The butterfly’s beauty does not come without a
painful cost, but it is a necessary trade-off. The caterpillar changes, and not
just in appearance. God changes it completely, transforming it into a thing of
beauty!
The
pains and struggles of life are like the transformation from caterpillar to
butterfly. We “eat” on the experiences of life until we can’t eat anymore,
when life gets to a breaking point. For me, I had retreated into a cocoon of
emotional pain, essentially separating myself emotionally, to shield myself
from additional hurt, but also to hide what I was going through. I had built up
a wall around myself to keep people from getting too close. I couldn’t let them
see me and the toll of brokenness that the marriage and divorce had
taken
Isaiah
62:3 tells us, “Thou shalt also be a crown of glory in the hand of the
Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of thy God.” A royal diadem is a jeweled
crown or headband worn as a symbol of sovereignty, of power, and authority. I
have taken this scripture to heart, personalizing it and comparing it to the
transformation from caterpillar to butterfly. God does not say that I am like
or that I wear a royal diadem, but rather that I am a royal
diadem! To God, I am special, priceless, unique, invaluable, rare,
irreplaceable, precious, a treasure, and highly valued. The Lord sees me as
exceedingly beautiful, and it is He who ascribes value to me. It is He who
validates me. People cannot see me the way God sees me because I am created in
His image, and no one knows what God looks like. I am His creation. I am His.
For
all of the times when I looked in the mirror and could only see brokenness or
couldn’t look past the scars on my face that haunted me for more than four
years, I am now reminded that when God sees me, He sees His beloved daughter,
and I know that this is how He wants me to see myself. To God, I am whole and
complete, an exquisite masterpiece unlike anything or anyone else. I am a child
of promise and I have a purpose and a calling that no one else can fulfill. In
this, I am assured that “Though [my] beginning was small, yet [my] latter end
should greatly increase.” (Job 8:7)
