Smiles and I just returned from a conference for those who work in the field of post-abortive healing… because, yes, that’s a real need.  Want to ask me how I know?

At the conference, I heard a woman speak publicly (I think for the first time) about her abortion and the affair that preceded it.  She trembled as she spoke.  Later she would tell me how afraid she is to be vulnerable with her story.  I guess we were a “safe space” because if you want to find a high volume of people who have suffered through something, look for the room full of people who are now helping others heal from it!

I told my new friend about my class reunion.  It had been 20 years since I was “that girl”, yet I was walking back into the arena of those who had only known me as such.  I was going to have to face my old identity, the one I had walked away from the day I met Jesus, and never wanted to see again.  I knew I was different. The Bible calls me “a new creation”!  Still, I trembled, just like my sweet sister on that stage telling us what she’d done.  Showing up to that class reunion was the bravest thing I’d ever done.

To intensify my insecurities was the fact that I had to go alone.  For whatever reason, Smiles couldn’t join me, nor could my kids (and they were my “proof” of a life well-lived).  I’d been faithfully monogamous for 20 years, yet it didn’t appear that way.  To further strip me of all my defenses, the Holy Spirit made it very clear to me that I shouldn’t rest my identity in my accomplishments.  Sure, if someone asked I could tell them I birthed and owned a small business, that my kids were absolutely amazing (even in their teenage years), and that the guy I met hitchhiking right after high school was the guy I had spent the next 20 years faithfully loving.  Yet, He reminded me again and again in the months leading up to it, that those things were not my identity.  He told me to read Ephesians 1 repeatedly to remind myself of my true identity.  I am His beloved!

I didn’t want to spend the money to go to Jackson and see a bunch of people I didn’t necessarily like or connect with.  I’ve got plenty of friends in Ohio, thank you very much.  I didn’t want to face the bones of my old, buried shame.  I definitely didn’t want to go without my husband.  But I did, because I knew I would likely be the most radically-changed person they’d ever seen, and it would shine the power of Jesus!  So, I went.

But now I know I didn’t just go for them, I went for myself.  Not because I had to face that person entombed forever in a yearbook.  She died a long time ago.  But because God wanted to teach me about my identity.  You see, identity has everything to do with Who we belong to, and Who defines us.  We are living in a time of identity-confusion-and-chaos.  We don’t even know whether we’re male or female anymore.  Please don’t ascribe judgment to what I just said.  I have deep, deep compassion and sadness for my friends who are wading through gender-dysphoria.  I realize this particular struggle comes from a place of not feeling like we belong, even in our own skin.  That’s brutal.  I don’t want to shame them, I want to hug them, and tell them about the God who created them intentionally and loved them all the way to the cross and back!  The God who gave me such a radically different identity that I could walk into a place where all my labels said things like “Slut, Trash, Whore, Junky, Home-wrecker, etc.” and somehow those labels fell right to the ground.  Sure, I felt the glares of those popular girls who couldn’t stand me 20 years ago, but instead of feeling insecure, I felt sorry for them… because they hadn’t changed, and I had been made entirely new!

Ever since my class reunion (it’s been another 7 years since then), I tend to walk with a stronger confidence.  Between that experience, and the severe battle I had with overcoming shame in my 18-25 year old range, I have learned to think like Christ regarding what He says about me.  I really don’t struggle much with the opinions of others.  I am able to tell my story boldly, even the most hideous parts.  And when I am wrong about something, or make a fool of myself, it’s easier to accept the fact and apologize.  When I am tempted to condemn myself, I remember that it is Jesus who makes me clean, not my own good behavior.  His blood is a more powerful force than all the sin and shame this world has ever known.

My brother once told me I was the most gracious person he knew, and then he followed up with “And it’s not despite your shame, it’s because of it”.  God used my years of anguish, confusion, shame, and self-loathing to make me a wounded-healer!  My scars will always remain, and for this I am grateful.  They are an ever present reminder that it doesn’t matter what I’ve done, I am beloved of God!  They are the things that make me weep when I sing about the cleansing, redeeming power of Jesus.  I am the one who was forgiven much, and it has taught me to love much.

Friend, if you trust in Jesus, you are His beloved, cherished one, despite your flaws and failures.  If that’s hard to believe, you may be trusting your feelings more than what He says about you in the Bible.  Go read your Bible!  If you don’t trust Him, I would challenge you that the only place to find healing, freedom, and cleansing is in Christ, and the only way to discover who you truly are is to ask the One who made you!

with love, compassion, and everlasting gratitude for grace,
Space