I learned something today that made me laugh. You know, in that scream into your pillow, bang your head on the table kind of way.
Buckle your seat belts, cause I’m going to let you intimately inside my head, at one of my lesser moments. You may want to hold on.
(Or maybe don’t. Feel free to run screaming thither and yon. Save yourself!)
Anyway, today = bad day.
The lies were louder than the military jets buzzing our neighbourhood of late.
(Side note: If any of you wonder about the flight training that our air force undergoes, I can personally assure you that it’s thorough.)
So, screaming lies usually cause me to reach out to trusted friends for reminders of the truth. But I’ve never really felt like Jesus has totally stepped into the gap for me, if you know what I mean.
I had this mental picture of the bully of all bullies standing over me, pointing his finger, saying, “You! You’re worthless!” Then he would pull out his phone and show me pictures of myself messing up.
“See? You did this wrong.”
He’d zoom in on the next picture, “And you ruined this.”
He’d point to a video that had been edited down to only the worst bits, “Oh! And this. This was pathetic!”
But then, Da, da, da da! Jesus would stride over and pick him up by the scruff of the neck.
“This one belongs to me,” he’d yell. “Off with you and your lies. She did no such thing!!”
Fling! And Jesus would toss him over the edge of a cliff.
You’d think that would be my happy ending. But it never came, because there was a problem with my scenario.
The problem was that the bully was right. I had done all those things wrong. I was definitely responsible, at least in part, for the chaos I was in.
I had no defence.
Some of you who are seasoned in the faith will catch it right away. I only just caught it today. And I wouldn’t necessarily have caught it myself.
As usual, I had help.
My wonderful church lady sent me a message that contained these words (among others):
“You have a Saviour who died for ANY AND ALL shortcomings and sins… You tell those lies to take it up with Jesus!”
So, right then, while I was parked by the water, not seeing it’s beauty for my pain, I decided to give it a try. For what felt like the thousandth time, I told the bully – the Father of all Lies – to take it up with Jesus.
And, WHAM! Just like that, my Jesus had new dialogue.
He no longer said, “She did no such thing!” leaving me meekly raising my hand to let him know that, yes, actually, I had done such a thing.
“Take it up with Jesus!” I cried.
The liar slimed over to Jesus, and told him about all the things I’d done to deserve to be run down, beaten down and berated.
Jesus listened, made the best ‘Who do you think you are?’ face, and narrowed his eyes. And then he said the most liberating words I’ve ever heard.
“So? So what if she did?”
And just like that, the liar disappeared into thin air.
Of course, I was still a sniveling mess, quaking like a jelly-fish. But I was a jelly-fish who knew she has the biggest, baddest protector of the broken-hearted and saviour of the crushed in spirit who ever graced this earth.
If a jelly-fish could WooHoo!, I would. Later, when I’m a normal, competent woman again, I’ll definitely WooHoo!