Ever since I was a small, fatherless child, I’ve struggled with believing that I am loved. I’ve felt broken. Messed up. Incapable. Unable to do anything right. Yes, yes I know that’s “silly.” From the outside looking in, it would seem that I really have no excuse to possess such a problem. I’ve always been loved-on, doted on, praised by my family and friends, cared for financially, emotionally, educationally and spiritually. I was even given an adopted father at age 10.
But, the fact of the matter is this:
when you feel broken, it’s because you are broken.
So a year ago when I found myself on the streets of Bangkok, walking to my amazing summer job as an art teacher, I felt unspeakably, immobilizingly broken. Still. Being in an unfamiliar place always churns up ones’ unsolved problems. As I was making my way down a calm back road one morning before the rush of the work day, I half-heartedly prayed for clarity, for freedom from self-hate, and from feeling so distant from Father God. The dense tropical greenery seemed to lean in toward me as I walked, as if it wanted to enclose me. The vines seemed to reach out their tendrils and whisper…
“I want to hold your hand. I was created to demonstrate God’s love to you. Let me do this, let me love you.”
(Yeah yeah, I’m a foolish girl. Talking plants that possess cognitive reasoning skills, and which furthermore want to embrace me? Stay with me…)
I had forgotten about that encounter until just recently. Now it’s spring, and I’m living in beautiful east Texas. The recent rainstorms have left us with billowy green grass and wildflowers. After the past month or so of a mini-depression, I decided that my camera and I needed to enjoy a nature walk. And what did we run in to? Flowers and leaves that wanted to show me the love of God….
Now listen, I know that plants don’t truly feel, think, or try to communicate. But God uses them to demonstrate His love, and He chose to reach out to me last year through their beauty, because at that point, I couldn’t believe that a man could truly love me. So isn’t God crazy-nice? There I was, stubbornly wallowing in self-pity, not believing that God loves me. And yet He shows up with this bouquet of tropical flowers, as a promise that He WOULD change my unbelief into trust, that He WOULD fix what was broken, in His good timing.
And He has…
And will continue to do so…
Please trust Him with me?