No Bump in the Road

I don’t own a lot of CDs. But there is one I’ve had for a dozen years. Listening to it has helped me encourage myself, especially after a time of betrayal. It’s called “The Mercy Project.” A favorite song on it, sung by Martina McBride, is called “You’ll Get Through This.” The chorus says,

“You’ll get through this, you’ll break new ground.

When you’re lost within your weakness, hope is waiting to be found.

You’ll get through this, no matter what it takes.

I believe in you for heaven’s sake.

You’ll get through this.”

It irks me when I hear someone say “just get over” it. I don’t believe we “get over” being betrayed by someone we trusted. Okay, I don’t think I will “get over” being betrayed by someone I trusted. To me “getting over” something is like saying it was merely a bump in the road, no big deal. Uh uh! Betrayal is no bump in the road.

So this song is a favorite because I have discovered that I’ve been getting through it. It’s like digging a tunnel through a mountain to find what my part was in it, as I forgive and keep forgiving the person. I think I’ve broken through a lot of new ground looking at and acknowledging my own part in it, confessing my sin to God and others, accepting forgiveness, uncovering deeper roots—the lies I believed about myself—that set me up for the situation and dealing with those, healing. I can think about the situation now and talk about it and the pain is no longer there. I remember the pain and can empathize with others when they experience it but I’m not staring out my window anymore feeling bereft.  

At a women’s gathering earlier this year I heard a speaker said, “You don’t have to clean up the mess someone else made.” Wow! What a concept. It’s their mess and they didn’t make the mess in my house. They made it in theirs. No need for me to step over it. I’ll be right here getting through my own mess.

What are the messes you’re getting through?

Stolen Identity?

Spotlight over here, please. Right here, down at the bottom of this chapter. Yep, that’s what I thought it said. I’ve read it, oh, who knows, a hundred times? Today it applies to my thoughts about where I find my worth. I’m talking about verses 22 and 23 in the third chapter of the book of First Corinthians.

Paul was writing to his friends in Corinth. They seemed to be all in a dither. One bunch was saying, “Hey, we’re buds with Paul. He’s our man.” Another clique said, “We cheer for Apollos so we are all that!” I’m not into sports but it sort of sounds like what goes on in ‘discussions’ amongst fans of ball teams. Which makes me roll my eyes. Until I look at how I’ve done it myself.

Yes, I admit it. I’ve been there, done that. With ‘church’ people. To my chagrin and pain. The trouble with lining myself up with another human being is that he or she is just that, another human being. As trustworthy as many are and can be, and I’m thankful for that, I’m learning that my ultimate trust for my own worth is to be in God. For me, seemingly faithful relationships crumbled and the fallible failed when I had different preferences in where I chose to worship the Lord. And by the level of my devastation over betrayal and loss, I realized I’d put my reliance on people for my own identity.

The phrase that spotlight picked out this morning (from the New Living Translation) is “Everything belongs to you, and you belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God.” It accentuates the concept I’ve mused on for the past few years, that I belong to me. My thoughts, my preferences, my feelings, my choices, my central identity. It’s my responsibility that I don’t give anyone else charge over that. Except for, if I read the rest of that verse, Christ, who belongs to God. Who, by the way, according to what I’ve read in His word, is my Creator and thus calls all the shots. But anyone else who tries to take over is trying to steal from God. Not that they can, because, you know, God being God, I don’t think anyone can actually steal from Him. And I can’t lose my identity when I find it in Him no matter what opinions others have about me.

That being said, words of affirmation are still like music to my ears! J It’s a song I like to sing to you too.